


A Bit of Luck and Daring

by Lunakitty



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cousins, Creepy Petyr Baelish, F/M, Minor Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Minor Gilly/Samwell Tarly, Minor Meera Reed/Bran Stark, Minor Shireen Baratheon/Rickon Stark, Minor Tormund Giantsbane/Brienne of Tarth, Minor Violence, POV Sansa Stark, Sandor Clegane & Arya Stark Friendship, Slow Burn, Warg Bran Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 46,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25366864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunakitty/pseuds/Lunakitty
Summary: What if Sansa found another way out of Kings Landing?
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 368
Kudos: 413





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My second humble attempt at fan fic. 
> 
> I own nothing and any mistakes are mine. 
> 
> Thank you for giving this a chance.

Sansa Stark learned three very important lessons while living under Cersei's thumb.  
First, remembering common courtesy with one's subjects inspires loyalty. Second, tears were not the only weapon at a woman's disposal.  
And third, it's better to allow those in power to view you as a non threat. 

After years of enduring misery in Kings Landing, Cersei's little dove was ready to fly away. 

Oh yes, Petyr Baelish had offered her safe passage to the Eyrie.  
Straight into the arms of her mad Aunt Lysa and possibly his own bedchamber.  
Sansa was a maiden but she understood how he looked at her.  
And Sansa was not agreeable to such an arrangement.  
Unfortunately she had only two plays to keep herself alive: be the sweet maiden bride to a man with enough power, enough money and a large enough army to take back her home or figure out a way to do it herself.  
So being Littlefinger's mistress would be a chore she had neither the time for nor the interest in. 

Margaery Tyrell, soon to be queen (and possibly cunning enough to actually excell at it) had dangled the possibility of a Tyrell marriage and the safety of High Garden in front of Sansa.  
Intriguing, but also sticky as spider webs often are. 

Ser Dontos had given her a diamond necklace belonging to his late mother. The last of the Hollard fortune and as real as a grumpkin as she learned after Shae arranged a meeting with a potential buyer. The man looked at her with great pity after he crushed one of the stones beneath his knife handle while assessing its value. 

Sansa's best option to flee this cesspool of a city was likely during the chaos of Joffrey's wedding festivities.  
Assuming her own husband stayed as drunk as he usually did.

Thankfully, The Imp was as careless with his gold as he was with his wine.  
Sansa almost smiled thinking of the small fortune she had amassed in the past months. Certainly enough to get her someplace safe, with a bit of luck and daring, if she were careful. 

The question was: where should she go? The only (sane) living relatives she knew of were her uncles in the Riverlands and her half-brother at The Wall. 

She really didn't know any of these men. Neither her mother's beloved uncle or brother had seen her since she was a babe. And she had never been close to her half-brother.  
Would they take her captive and send her packing right back to court?  
It may be a risk she has to take. 

The Boltons hold her ancestral home. Once upon a time the Boltons were her father's loyal bannermen. Now they were her enemies. She would neither forget nor forgive them for their betrayal. For the deaths of her mother, her brother. The North remembers and so does Sansa Stark. 

On the morning of King Joffrey's wedding to High Garden's most prized rose, Sansa Stark excused herself from the dining hall to visit the godswood to pray for the blessed union.  
How she managed to keep a straight face while telling that egregious lie is a mystery.

The entire keep was in a flurry of activity. Serving women and guards were running to and fro. All manner of guests were still arriving. No one had any time or any interest in what she did today. Thank the gods. Even her usual three guards were down to one guard today. Just as she hoped. 

As she walked with the young guard tasked to accompany her, she touched Shae's dagger tucked into the sleeve of her dress. Its presence was soothing.   
The bag of gold was tied snuggly to her waist.  
Her husband was either too dull from last night's wine or not interested enough to notice she wore boots rather than slippers this morning. 

Her husband failed to notice many things Sansa did, thankfully.  
For weeks she sat at the docks watching ships come and go.  
She knew a ship owned by the Manderlys would be leaving today to return to White Harbour.  
Shae had made arrangements with the captain to allow a young Nothern girl fleeing a bad marriage safe passage. As long as she found her own way to the dock before noon and agreed to hide below deck until they were in open water. 

Now she just had to get to that ship. 

As they reached a break in the garden hedge, she stopped and turned to her guard.  
"Forgive me, ser," she said softly. "Would it be alright if we stopped for a moment? I am feeling faint in this heat."  
The young guard eyed her warily. Lady Sansa did not typically speak to any of her guards beyond a polite thank you now and then. Not that he blamed her. He had heard of the lady's treatment at the hand of the King's guard. It was dishonorable in his opinion. Lady Sansa seemed a sweet soul, incapable of warranting such cruelty regardless of who her family were.

As he looked at her, he saw her flushed cheeks and felt pity. She was betrothed to the king not so long ago. And now he was marrying another while she was shackled to the Imp.   
"Should I send for the Maester?" he asked turning to look for a servant.  
She grasped his arm as she murmured "No, please. Everyone is so busy today. I don't want to be a bother. Perhaps I could just sit for a moment. Just behind this hedge, out of sight."  
The guard looked uncomfortable. The suggestion seemed wrong somehow. But as he looked at her flushed cheeks and wide, blue eyes, he sighed. 

"Alright my lady, but just for a moment. I will call for the Maester if you are not recovered quickly." 

As Sansa slipped behind the hedge, she found the rock she left there two nights ago. 

"Oh no!" she cried out as she pretended to lose her balance.

The guard quickly stepped behind the hedge to check on his charge.  
As he began to bend down to offer assistance, Sansa sprung up and struck from the side with all of her might. 

The rock connected with the guard's temple and he crashed down upon his knees with a great "Oof." 

Sansa struck again. An odd mixture of repulsion at her violence and exileration at her victory flooded through her. 

The guard collapsed onto the ground.  
Sansa knelt beside him to check to see if he was breathing. He was. 

Sansa quickly dropped the rock, untied the cloth around her waist to use as a hood and began the walk to the dock. 

Her steps were calm and unhurried though her heart pounded frantically. 

She walked with her head down, hand clutching the fabric of her hood to cover as much of her face as she could. 

She was on high alert, listening for the shout of guards or the thunder of hoof beats. She was braced to feel steely arms grab her but she dared not look back.  
Partially out of fear and partially out of stubbornness.  
She was not going to spend her life as Lady Lannister being held captive by the family that murdered her own.  
She was going North.  
Somehow, someway she would take back her home.  
And damn to the seven hells anyone who tried to stop her.  
She was willing to die for this. She was willing to kill for this. 

She needed men. She needed weapons. She needed to find her sister.  
She needed Theon Greyjoy's head on a pike. 

She was not a little dove.  
She was a wolf.  
And it was time the Lannisters learned that.

As she reached the dock, she saw the Manderly ship being loaded with grain and barrels of arbor gold.  
Her entire body shook with relief and fatigue as she approached one of the crewmen. 

Her inquiry into the captain's whereabouts was met with a grunt but the grizzled old man beckoned her to follow him. 

As she unclenched the hand holding her hood around her face just enough for the captain to see her, his eyebrows rose and he leaned toward her to whisper "I suppose an early departure is needed. Lord Manderly will be pleased to see you, my lady. The North remembers." 

Sansa nodded her thanks as she replied "I am counting on the long memory of the North, sir. And a quick departure would be most welcome, thank you." 

The captain showed her to his private cabin and headed back out to hurry the crew.  
Even as she felt the ship moving, she could not relax. She paced and wrung her hands for what felt like an eternity. 

A sharp knock on the captain's door nearly stopped her heart.  
The first mate informed her they were clear of the bay and into open waters. 

For the first time in a very long time, Sansa genuinely smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa arrives in White Harbor and catches up on all the latest news.

The weeks upon the Manderly ship were relatively peaceful. Sansa enjoyed the freedom of reading any book of her choosing from the captain's personal library.  
She sat on the upper deck enjoying the feel of the wind in her hair.  
The grand Southern hairstyles were left behind in Kings Landing.  
A simple braid felt like a decadence after years of adhering to the trends of the South.  
Sansa found needles and thread to stitch a snarling direwolf onto every scrap of cloth the captain found for her.  
The food was barely tolerable after the delicacies of the royal cooks but Sansa ate as much as she could. She knew she would need all the strength she could muster in the coming days.  
Finally, her last day of true freedom came to an end as White Harbor came visible.  
As the row boat came ashore, a quartet of horse riders baring the sigil of House Manderly stood waiting her arrival.  
She did not see Lord Manderly nor she truly expect to consider he was often called too fat to ride a horse. 

One of the men rushed forward to help her out of the rowboat, his face grave as he said "My lady, much has happened during your voyage. King Joffrey was poisoned during his wedding feast. Your husband has been arrested and you are being sought for questioning."  
Sansa was stunned.  
Tyrion would never. Oh he may wish Joffery (and his father) dead when he was deep in his cups, but he would never have the stones to do the job himself.  
But Olena Tyrell most certainly would.  
Good for her, Sansa thought. Long may he rot. 

Taking the guard's hand to step out of the row boat, Sansa looked into his eyes and said "I assure you, good sir, I am deeply shocked. Please, I beg you to take me to Lord Manderly straight away." 

Sansa ran to the only riderless horse and motioned for the lead rider to go. 

On the way to the Manderly keep, the guard proved himself to be a font of knowledge. She learned sweet Tommen was named king and was now betrothed to Lady Margaery.  
Sansa smirked inwardly.  
Oh Olena, you sly old fox, she thought.  
A brilliant gamble for the Tyrell family as Tommen would be easier to control and eager to please his beguiling bride.  
That could be helpful to her if Tommen was out of Cersei's influence.  
On the other hand, Tommen would also be eager to please his grandfather, the true power in Kings Landing. 

At the moment though the politics and intriques of Kings Landing could wait.  
The only thing that mattered now was The North.  
Taking back her home, finding her sister and driving out men who betrayed her family.

Lord Manderly was waiting for her as the group arrived in the courtyard. He was a large man with a great white beard. He lumbered over to her and clasped her hand gently. With his eyes clouding over with tears he said  
"Lady Sansa, you are the very image of your mother. I am pleased to welcome you to White Harbor and my home. The North remembers, my lady." 

Sansa courtesied to him and replied "Thank you Lord Manderly. I am deeply grateful for your assistance. Might we go someplace quiet to talk?" 

After accepting bread and salt to establish guest rights, Sansa, Lord Manderly and his counselors discussed the business of the South, Stannis Baratheon, the Freys, Roose Bolton and his bastard Ramsey, the Greyjoys and the houses still loyal to House Stark well into the night. 

Sansa was strangely pleased and proud to learn her half-brother Jon had become the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch.  
She also felt a sadness settle into her heart.  
She should take no pride in Jon's accomplishments as she did nothing to build his character.  
She was never cruel to him. They merely had nought much to do with one another.  
The last happy memory she has of her half-brother is a dancing lesson in the godswood. Jon was shy and clumsy as Sansa tried to lead him through the steps of the most fashionable reel dances.  
Her Septa came looking for her and found them laughing as Jon was attempting to lift Sansa into the air. Septa Mordane cooly told Jon to get back to the stables "where he belongs."  
Jon's face flushed red as he stalked away.  
Sansa was not allowed to be unaccompanied on the grounds after that. 

She hoped Jon was well. And she hoped to see him again. Mayhaps when she found Arya they could travel to The Wall to see Jon. She could only imagine how happy those two would be to see each other.  
She hoped Jon may be happy to see her as well. Mayhaps they would be able to build a bond in adulthood they were denied as children. 

Sansa spent several more days in White Harbor while Lord Manderly's ravens and riders carried the news to the northern houses and the Vale that Sansa Stark was alive and calling her father's banners.  
A separate letter was sent to The Wall addressed to Jon.

Letters began to arrive with responses. House Mormont, House Maxin and House Hornwood are the first to pledge their men.  
House Reed interestingly enough also pledges theirs. 

News also arrives that Stannis Baratheon soon marches on Winterfell to unseat the Boltons.  
Good, Sansa thinks, kill each other and let the crows feast. I will gladly walk over your ashes to reclaim my home. 

Her letter to the Eyrie was returned with heartfelt sympathies on the death of Aunt Lysa. Apparently soon after Littlefinger's return, he married Lysa. After a few short weeks of wedded bliss, her aunt stumbled through the Moon Door after too much drink. A tragic accident that left her cousin Robin the Lord of the Eyrie with Petyr as his guardian.  
In a private note in which he addresses her as "Sweetling" Petyr hints that the promise of a bethrothal to her would be cause to raise the Knights of the Vale to defend her interests.  
Interesting. Awful. But interesting.  
Sansa felt for her Aunt Lysa.  
She was rumored to be mad but Sansa could not help but feel great pity for her Aunt and her cousin Robin. She had experienced the acute heartache of losing her mother.  
To be as young and frail as Robin, grieving his mother and under the thumb of a wretched power monger like Littlefinger was not just nor fair.  
Sansa sends two letters in response. One to Littlefinger and one to Lord Yohn Royce. Between the two she may get half the truth of the politics of the Vale. 

There was much revelry that night with the promise of the support of the Vale.  
Under her wide smile, Sansa wondered if accepting the support meant her next bethrothal would be to Petyr or her cousin Robin. Neither prospect was acceptable. But long engagements could be broken. 

She also learns her half-brother Jon has begun to take in Wildings from north of The Wall. What could he be thinking, Sansa wonders.  
They spent their childhood being told horrible tales of Wildings ransacking villages and stealing women for wives.  
She believes Jon to be a good man. There must be some explanation though she cannot fathom what it could be. 

The last bit of news is that her sister is betrothed to Ramsay Bolton. Newly legitimized by King Tommen, Ramsay would be considered suitable for a noble bride.  
Sansa's heart leapt in her chest that her sister was alive. She laughed out loud as relief flooded her body.  
But Lord Manderly and his counselor's visibly paled at this news.  
Sansa knelt beside the old man's chair and asked what was the matter. 

Lord Manderly paused and looked at her sadly. "My lady, Ramsey is known for his cruelty. There are rumors that he set his hounds about more than one village maid. He fights like a demon. Theon Greyjoy is said to be his poppet now. Ramsey has unmanned Theon utterly. I fear for your sister." 

Sansa's grip on the chair tightened as she leaned on it. Every ounce of joy she felt upon learning her sister was alive seemed to drain from her as quickly as it came. 

A thousand thoughts raced through her mind.  
The closest army to Winterfell belonged to Stannis Baratheon. 

She would start there. 

She stands and squares her shoulders.

"Lord Manderly, where is Stannis now and how quickly can we ride there?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I'm easy. Lol  
> One mention of possibly continuing and I jump.
> 
> I'm winging it hardcore.  
> I have plot points and a prayer. 
> 
> Again...any mistakes are all mine. 
> 
> Thank you for giving this a chance.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melissandre, Davos and Gendry  
> I'm seriously winging it here.  
> Please forgive all timeline shenanigans, typos and unfortunate grammar.

Stannis Baratheon was near Winterfell. 

She would travel to the Baratheon encampment with a small contingent of men from White Harbor.  
Men from House Mormont, House Mazin, House Hornwood and House Reed had begun marching and would meet them, along with the Knights of the Vale, at Moat Calin once an alliance of some sort had been struck with Stannis. 

The trip to Winterfell was cold and long. Days of riding in the cold wind took a toll on all of them.  
Each night Sansa stumbled to her tent and collapsed face down on her bedroll in utter exhaustion.  
And each morning she found herself waking from sweet dreams of eating hot soup and drinking warm mulled wine in front of the great hearth in Winterfell. 

Thankfully, after many, endlessly long days of riding, a large encampment of Baratheon men came into view with Winterfell's tallest tower perched in the horizon.  
Home.  
Her home.  
Being this close to the place where she last laughed with her family was heartening.   
But so much destruction and death would come first.  
Sansa sighed as she looked away from Winterfell. She must get through the fight before it would be her home again. 

Riders from the Bartheon camp swiftly approached her own weary party.  
"I am Sansa of House Stark, eldest daughter of Eddard Stark and heir to Winterfell. I am here to request an audience with His Grace, Stannis Baratheon," Sansa said calmly but in such a way that it was clear this was not a request. 

One of the Baratheon soldiers sped away from the group to relay her message.  
There was little point in dismounting her horse at the moment in case they were directed out of the camp to meet Stannis but Sansa couldn't help but glance longingly at the ground. She was beginning to worry the elegant walk she spent years perfecting would soon be permanently altered by the weeks of riding. 

Soon enough, the rider returned and beckoned them all to follow. 

The camp was a beehive of activity. There was constant movement. And the men who weren't walking or running were clustered in small groups training, tending cook fires, setting up tents or playing card games.

Sansa and her men dismounted their horses and followed one of the guards through the maze of tents. 

As they approached the largest tent, they were asked to wait.  
Sansa stood stock still, in shock as what could only be a Wildling man passed by her. He was a large man with a bushy red beard and the hair to match.  
As he passed by her grinning, he reached out to flick the end of her braid. "Kissed by fire, like me. It means you're lucky, little kneeler."  
Sansa jerked back gasping but the large Wildling simply laughed and continued past her. 

What were Wildings doing here? She wondered aloud. 

The Baratheon guard next to her said quietly that they were called Free Folk now and they were joining the fight to take Winterfell. 

Sansa was bewildered and wanted to know more. As she opened her mouth to ask more questions the flap of the tent opened and an older man stepped out to greet her.  
He had a gray beard and hair, a pleasant face, soft Flea Bottom accent and several missing fingers on the hand pressed to his chest. 

"Milady, I am Davos Seaworth, Hand of the one true king, Stannis Baratheon. His Grace offers you rest and refreshement and invites you to break your fast and meet with him in the morning. There is much to discuss and I'm sure you are weary from your travels."  
Sansa sighed. She would actually like to get started hammering out a negotiation. However, she was very tired. As were the men with whom she had been traveling. "All right, Lord Seaworth, please lead the way," she said, handling off the reigns of her horse to a nearby soldier. 

The tent provided for her was much more luxurious than the small tent she had experienced thus far on her travels. There was even a tub for bathing.  
Sansa's exhaustion gave way to momentary giddiness at the thought of a bath.  
She requested bathwater be brought in from the solider posted outside of her tent.  
And soon enough her tub was filled with steamy water.  
As she began hastily undressing, the opening to her tent slid apart and a woman with deep red hair and a scanalously thin red gown stepped inside.

A shocked Sansa clutched her dress to the front of her chest and demanded "Who are you?"  
The woman merely smiled and seemed to glide toward her, holding out a thin piece of soap and a bath sheet. 

"I am Melissandre of Asshai, my lady. I am a friend of Queen Selyse Baratheon and advisor to the one true king, Stannis Baratheon. I am at your service." The woman began to circle Sansa, appraising her. Sansa bristled at this woman's lack of propriety. 

"It's difficult for a lady in conditions like this," Melissandre continues, head tilted as she regarded Sansa's face closely "I thought it would be kind to share a small luxury." 

Sansa warily reached out for the soap and the sheet, thanking the other woman for her kindness.  
As Melissandre turned to leave the tent, she paused. "Lady Stark, you are the cousin of Jon Snow are you not?"  
Sansa blinked.  
"No, I am his half-sister."  
The lady smiled mysteriously and asked "Are you sure about that? Goodnight, my lady," as she slipped from the tent. 

What in all of the seven hells did that mean, Sansa thought, as she continued undressing.  
Sansa tried to brush off that odd woman's comment. But as she sat in the tub, but her mind refused to focus on anything else.  
What did the strange woman mean to imply about Jon being her cousin not her half- brother?  
That's ridiculous! Wasn't it?  
Jon was her father's son. He had to be. Their resemblance was so strong.  
Jon looked much more a Stark than she.  
Besides, if Jon wasn't her father's child, why on earth would her father claim Jon knowing how it hurt her mother so terribly?  
Sansa suddenly gasped and sat upright.  
He father, as she knew him, would never seem the type to stray from his new wife.  
Honorable Ned Stark would never.  
But he did seem the type to do whatever it took to protect his family.  
Up until the moment Joffrey ordered his beheading, her father said and promised whatever he could to protect Arya and her.  
He would lie for his children.  
He would lie for his family.  
So if Jon was indeed her cousin....who were his parents?  
Jon and Robb were close in age.  
Uncle Brandon was killed by the mad king before Jon could have been conceived.  
That only left Lyanna as a possibility.  
Lynana was kidnapped as a maiden by the Targaryen Prince and died in the war.  
She had no children.  
Or did she?  
Sansa bent to hold her head in her hands.  
Was it even possible?  
Was Jon the son of Lyanna Stark?  
And if he were her son could his father be Rhaegar Targaryen?  
Sansa could not wrap her mind around this. It was too much.  
If it were true Jon was the real heir to the seven kingdoms.  
And therefore he was a great threat to the current Baratheon (Lannister) reign. 

Depsite the disdain for the Lannisters that burned in The North, Jon would be grave danger from some of those in the North as well if even a hint of this became public knowledge.

Sansa rose from the tub, quickly dried off, dressed in her one (sort of) clean dress.  
She finds Shae's dagger and tucks it into her sleeve.  
Then she sets off to find the woman in red.  
She needs to know what this woman knows, how she knows it and whom she has told. 

Half-brother and Lord Commander of the Night's Watch or her cousin and heir to the seven kingdoms?  
At this moment, Sansa did not care which Jon was.  
She meant to stamp out any whisper of doubt about Jon's parentage.  
She would have him safe, alive and well either serving The Night's Watch or home at Winterfell with her and Arya. As far from The South and death and that hideous iron throne as possible.

Sansa stalks the area of larger tents in the cold night air, determined to find the tent of Melissandre.  
The guards were reluctant to point out the way.  
She was cautioned to leave the red witch alone by more than one trembling, wide eyed man.  
Sansa did not not the patience for this superstition.

She stopmed over to the last remaining large tent, confirmed it was the lady's tent and pushed passed the guard to fling open the flap.  
Melissandre was naked and sit astride a very wide eyed, bound and gagged, equally naked young man.  
The Lady was holding a dagger overhead, seeming to be in a trance, mumbling strange words.

The young man stares at Sansa, eyes wide with terror and begins grunting pleas for help, she thinks. 

The red woman does not notice Sansa, and continues chanting strange words. 

Sansa is honestly not sure whether to be terrified, annoyed or embarassed. As she opens her mouth to ask what's going on Davos Seaworth rushes past her and strikes the red witch across the head with a silver serving platter.  
The lady falls to her side, the dagger flying a few feet away.  
Davos pulls out a much more sturdy blade and begins to cut the young man free. 

Sansa checks on the lady, who is unconscious but otherwise appears fine. Sansa covers her with furs from the bed and asks "Who are you and what is happening?"  
The young man, wrapping himself in Davos' cloak says "I'm Gendry Waters with The Brotherhood Without Banners. She took me from our camp. Bought me from them. Said I had king's blood. She brought me here and she was gonna kill me dead. I don't know why. Who are you? I'd like to know who saved my life." 

Sansa rose from tending Melissandre and said "This man is Davos Seaworth, Hand of the King to Stannis Baratheon. I am Sansa Stark..."  
"Sansa Stark!," Gendry interrupted. "I know your sister."


	4. Chapter 4

"How do you know my sister?" Sansa asks, her heart not daring to believe it. 

Gendry looked away as he said "The day your father was killed, we left outta Kings Landing together with a cart of men going to The Wall. She was dressed like any other gutter rat orphan boy, like the rest of us. Called herself called Arry. She fought like a boy. Cursed like a boy. But she hid in the bushes to piss. She had haughty little high born manners now and then. Plus she had a castle forged steel sword. Tiny little thing with a thin blade. She called it.."  
"Needle," Sansa finished for him, her voice shaking. 

"Where is her sister now?" Davos asked.

Gendry shrugged and replied "The last time I saw her, she was taking off with some woman dressed in armor like a knight. Said they were going to Skagos to find your brother." 

Sansa's knees buckled and she gasped in relief.  
" Which brother?" she whispered.  
  
Gendry shrugged again "Rickard maybe? The youngest." 

"We thought him dead. How...who...why does she think he's alive?" 

"Thoros with the Brotherhood saw it in the flames, whatever that means," Gendry scoffed. "And it's a good thing the big woman came along too. The Hound showed up at our camp and tried to kidnap Arry. The big woman almost killed The Hound fighting him off. That was good enough for Arry. The woman said she swore an oath to your mother to protect you and Arry. Arry didn't care for no oath, she just needed a good fighter by her side." 

Sansa was bewildered at this turn of events.  
"Is The Hound dead?" Sansa asked, not sure how she would feel either way. 

Gendry chuckled. "No, he went with em to find your brother. He's even uglier now and has a limp but he's alive." 

Rickon may be alive.  
Arya seemed to definitely be alive.  
And she had Brienne of Tarth and Sandor Clegane by her side.  
Sansa was starting to believe in the gods again. 

But then who was betrothed to Ramsey Bolton. And why did they claim to be Arya?  
Sansa did not know why but the answers to those questions were vital. 

"May I ask that we keep Arya's whereabouts between us? Someone is pretending to be my sister in order to marry my enemy. I need to know who and why," Sansa asked the men.  
They readily agreed. 

After getting the still unconscious Lady Melssandre settled on her pallet Sansa called for a Maester. 

As Davos and she walked with Gendry to the camp stables, Davos warned Gendry to stay hidden for his own safety. He began to explain the strange beliefs of Lady Melissandre about king's blood.  
Gendry scoffed "But I'm from Flea Bottom. Ain't no king blood in me." 

Davos looked Gendry in the eye and told him Melissandre believed him to be the bastard son of King Robert Baratheon.  
Gendry, now ashen faced, looked to Sansa. "Your father, Lord Stark, would come visit me at the forge in Flea Bottom. He said I looked so much like his best friend but I didn't think...."  
Sansa grasped his hand.  
But Gendry's body went rigid. "The day before they took Lord Stark away he asked me if there were any children of yellow hair in my family. I said no. He said there aren't any in Robert's either. And then he told me to get out of the city. That's I decided to go to The Wall. I truly did not think he meant King Robert...." 

Sansa felt a chill come over her.  
Could the rumors be true that the Lannister twins were lovers? Could Cersei's golden haired cubs be her brother's and not Robert's?  
Had her father figured it out and gotten himself killed for it? 

Exhaustion suddenly swept over her.  
She bid Gendry goodbye and gave him what gold she had with her. 

As she and Davos watched Gendry ride away she turned to Davos to ask "Is that why Stannis continues this fight? He does truly believe he is the last Baratheon son and not either of Robert's sons with Cersei? " 

"Aye, my lady. He does." 

Sansa sighs, her head swimming with all the things she'd learned tonight.  
Davos walks her back to her tent and bids her goodnight.  
Her sister was alive. Her little brother Rickon might be alive. And now she had a spark hope for her other brother Bran on this day of miracles as well. 

She heard the gruesome tale of Theon killing and burning her poor brothers.  
Had he not actually done it? 

Theon was an arrogant ass but she never thought him capable of the cold blooded murders of her brothers. 

There was much to think on.  
And as hard as she tried to stay awake, sleep overtook her soon enough. 

The next morning after a warm breakfast, Sansa and her Manderly men entered Stannis Baratheon's tent.  
It was sparse and neat. Much like the man himself. 

There was much discussion. Tedious, the lot of it.  
Sometimes Sansa could hear Stannis grinding his teeth from where she sat across the table.  
He would not agree to Nothern Independence and she would not budge on pledging troops for his fight in the South until he did. 

During the afternoon, a much needed break was called.  
Sansa decided to stretch her legs and visit the stable. 

The Lady Melissandre was climbing on to a sturdy mare. The lady was dressed in her typical gauzy red gown. Sansa shivered under her furs.  
"My Lady," Sansa called out. "How do you fair today?"  
Melissandre turned her unnerving gaze on Sansa. "I am well Lady Stark. I am riding for The Wall." 

"The Wall? Why on earth would you go there? You'll likely freeze to death on the way!" 

Melissandre smiled and replied "The Lord of Light has shown me the true fight is there. I am needed there."

"At least take my furs," Sansa said in exasperation as she began shrugging out of her cloak.

Melissandre laughed delightedly. "I have no need my lady. The Lord of Light keeps me warm." 

As Melissandre began to ride out of the stables, Sansa asked "Could you take a letter to my brother Jon? He's the Lord Commander..."

Melissandre interrupted her with a laugh. "No letter is needed my lady. You will see him soon enough. Farewell."

Sansa stared after the lady, perplexed and annoyed. 

How and why would she see Jon soon?  
Lady Melissandre seemed happy to be on her journey. 

But Sansa was suddenly afraid.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tormund leads a song and Sansa takes a fateful walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain hurts now. Lol  
> Again, please excuse typos, grammatical errors and general dumbassery.
> 
> Thank you for reading.

Over the coming days ravens and riders flew into the camp.  
More noble houses pledged their fealty to House Stark and House Baratheon. 

Stannis barely smiled at the news of more support for his campaign but Sansa and Davos noticed a distinct lack of teeth grinding in counsel meetings. 

Sansa found herself enjoying spending time with Davos and his small shadow, Princess Shireen.  
Shireen was a thoughtful, intelligent child with a lively sense of humor. 

However Selyse Barartheon was a nervous, unpleasant woman. Sansa tried to find compassion for the woman having heard of the many unborn babes lost to Selyse.  
Sansa found it difficult to maintain her temper when the other woman thoughtlessly disregard her sweet daughter. 

Sansa began actively avoiding the family tent area, hoping to catch Davos and Princess Shireen on walks instead. 

Sansa was sternly asked to accept a guard when she wandered about the camp. Either a Manderly guard fretted over her like a Septa or a Baratheon solider stood behind her occasionally heaving bored sighs.   
Fed up, Sansa decided to skip her evening walk and steeled herself to approach the Free Folk camp fire. 

She tried to glide to the back of the group but the big man with the red beard called her out.  
"Little kneeler! Kissed by fire like me! Come sit and drink with me."  
A loud cheer went up from the group of Free Folk as Sansa sighed.  
Reluctantly, she made her way through the group near the fire and sat beside the red bearded man.  
"My name is Sansa," she told the man.  
"And I am Tormund Giantsbane! Free man and husband to bears!" he boomed back at her.  
Sansa was so startled she slipped off her seat on the log but none of the Free Folk seemed to notice as they clanked horns of ale together. 

Tormund grabbed her arm to haul her back up on the log then slung a heavy arm across her shoulders.  
Just as Sansa opened her mouth to explain, in exacting detail, why his behavior was completely unnacceptable the Free Folk began to sing. The song was about a black crow who loved a wild girl with fire in her hair.  
The song was bawdy at times but terribly sad as it ended. The crow lost his lady love to an arrow through her heart.  
A quiet settled over the Free Folk for a moment until Tormund raised his horn of ale. "To Ygritte! We will never forget you." 

Sansa felt as though she was intruding as the group quieted. She patted Tormund on the shoulder and made her way to a line of trees on the edge of camp. 

Sansa leaned against a tree, enjoying the cool night air rustling her skirts. She closed her eyes and thought of the old gods.  
Her mother raised her to worship the Seven.  
She was the only Stark child to visit the Sept her father had built.  
She used to believe in the gods before her time in Kings Landing. Now she wondered about the old gods.  
Would it help bring her siblings back to her if she pled with the gods of her father? 

Behind her, a branch snapped.  
Sansa whirled around, trying to release Shae's dagger from her sleeve.  
"Come out" Sansa demanded the shadows.  
She felt an arm around her waist as a hand clamped over her mouth.  
Sansa felt blind panic as she slammed her elbow back with all of her strength.

A strangled "oof!" escaped her would- be captor.  
Sansa lifted her skirts as she prepared to run for her life.  
"Sansa...please," a soft voice called from the darkness. 

Sansa wildly scanned the dark woods behind her then looked down.  
Large green eyes peered up at her from the face of the old man lying on the ground.  
Sansa had the odd sensation that she knew this man.  
Another branch broke as a small figure stepped into the moon light.  
"Please help us, Sansa. Please. We've no where else to go and he's coming." 

The world seemed to tilt as Sansa recognized her childhood friend Jeyne Poole. 

"He helped me. He knows you may have his head but he risked it to get me here. Please don't turn us away," Jeyne pleaded. 

Sansa looked back down at the old man who grabbed her. 

Those eyes used to sparkle with joy when they all splashed each other in the hot springs. 

Those eyes burned with jealousy when Jon bested him again in the training yard. 

Those eyes had met her own with compassion that time when Arya broke her favorite doll. 

Theon Greyjoy's eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Exposition Fairy chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots and lots (and lots) of dialogue in this one.  
> I couldn't think of another way to handle it so.. here we are. 
> 
> Thank you for reading.  
> I'm shocked by and delighted with anyone who has made it this far.

Sansa looked back and forth between green eyes and brown eyes, searching for lies, hoping for truth. 

Taking a gamble she whispered  
"Don't move. Either of you. I am going to get help. You are safe here."  
  
She lifted her skirts and ran toward the encampment, mind racing over what to do. Before she had even realized her own decision, she found herself at the Free Folk camp fire.  
"Tormund. I need your help. Please come with me." 

Without asking a single question Tormund grabbed his hand axe and stood to follow her.  
She explained as best she could what was happening as they ran.

As they reached the trees, Theon rolled to his side, covering his head with his arms. Jeyne fell into a crouch and also covered her head with her arms. 

Sansa felt a white hot fury flood her veins. She knew that response. She had crouched and covered herself in Kings Landing.  
She touched Tormund's arm and their eyes met. 

"Jeyne, it's all right. He's not here to hurt you. He's here to help me carry Theon. You both need to see the Maester. No one will hurt you here. I will not allow it," Sansa spoke these words gently while walking slowly toward her old friend. 

Jeyne released her arms and looked up at Sansa. After a few seconds, Jeyne's face melted from filled with terror to profound sadness as she sprung up and threw herself into Sansa's embrace. 

Both women shuddered as they held onto one another. Sansa stroked Jeyne's hair and whispered that she was safe now, no one would hurt her anymore. 

When Sansa's shoulder was soaked with tears, Tormund cleared his throat and whispered "What do I do with this one?" 

Theon was still rolled into a little ball on the ground, muttering softly. 

Sansa was conflicted. She needed to know the truth from Theon. Why did he betray them? Did he kill her brothers? What happened to him? How did he end up with Jeyne? Where were they coming from?  
The pitiful creature with Theon's eyes did not seem capable of telling her anything at the moment. 

Sansa sighed.  
There was nothing more to do tonight.  
They needed food and shelter and a Maester. There would be no hiding their presence. 

She would not have Theon slip away. As frail as he appeared, she did not, could not and would not trust him. 

"Let's bring them back to camp. Theon can go straight to the guard post. Jeyne will come with me." 

Tormund reached down to grab Theon's arm. Theon jerked and began yelling "My name is Reek! Reek!"

Tormund looked at Sansa for how to proceed.  
Sansa tilted Jeyne's face up with a finger under her chin.  
"Jeyne, darling. Who did this to you? Who is after you?" 

Jeyne's face crumpled as she whispered "Ramsey." 

Sansa and Tormund held each other's gaze. A thousand thoughts flew between them before Tormund grabbed Theon's arm and pulled him onto his feet.  
"Quiet down and walk. Now!" Tormund shoved Theon just enough to propel him forward.  
Theon still carried on muttering about being Reek but he was no longer yelling, thankfully. 

The next few hours flew by in a blur.

After a cursory exam by the Maester, Theon was placed under guard. He had no reaction to being placed in shackles . Though he was given food and a thin blanket, he left both untouched. 

Sansa held Jeyne's hand while she was examined by the Maester. Her body was a patchwork of bruises and healing cuts. There would be thin scars left behind after healing but there appeared to be no broken bones.  
It was a blessing to hear but Sansa also knew a broken spirit was far harder to recover from. 

Sansa had food brought to her tent and found her friend a clean shift to sleep in.  
Jeyne curled up in Sansa's arms and began softly weeping. 

"Oh Jeyne. What happened to you? How did you end up here? Please tell me. Let me help you. Please," Sansa whispered. 

Jeyne kept her head tucked beneath Sansa's chin as she released a long breath.  
"The day your father was taken, the soldiers came for me. I was dragged out of the keep and thrown into a wagon. They took me to a brothel. Littlefinger's brothel."

Sansa felt her body grow tense as her mind raced. Littlefinger? 

She had heard the odd rumor that Littlefinger had his hands in unsavory business. A brothel seemed rather mundane at this point.  
What troubled Sansa more was the thought that Littlefinger had soldiers in his pocket. And that he knew the timing of her father's arrest well enough to have Jeyne taken from the keep.  
Her attention snapped back as Jeyne began to speak again. 

"He told me he was rescuing me. I was so afraid. So terribly afraid. He told me he would keep me safe, get me home. But we had to be careful. I would need to hide there, at the brothel until it was safe.  
I was there in that brothel, with those women for months. I did laundry. I cooked. I mended sheets and dresses. Anything to stay busy. I nearly went mad waiting for word.  
One day Littlefinger came back. He asked me if I wanted to return home as the wife of a young lord. Be the lady of a noble house. I said yes. Gods help me. I said yes," Jeyne began to cry as she clutched at Sansa's shoulders. 

Sansa smoothed Jeyne's hair away from her face. "Sweet Jeyne. We can stop if you..." 

"No. Sansa," Jeyne swiped at her tears.  
"I need to tell you."  
Jeyne released a long breath before she continued.  
" He told me Arya was dead but no one could prove it. He said she disappeared the day your father was...killed. He told me to just pretend to be Arya and I would marry the Bolton heir. He said it would work as I grew up in Winterfell and had the same build and coloring as Arya.  
All I had to do was pretend. And I could have everything I'd ever wanted." 

Sansa felt a wave of sorrow wash over her. She knew Jeyne longed to marry above her station and become the pampered lady to a wealthy lord.  
Sansa had dreamed of being queen.  
They were both so innocent back then. 

"Sansa, I am ashamed but I didn't care that Arya was gone. I just wanted to go North. And I wanted to be a lady of a great house so I said yes." 

"Jeyne, it's all right. I try to believe we were all doing the best we knew how," Sansa said, hoping to sooth her friend. 

"Ramsey was polite at first, especially in front of his father. I knew there would be no love between us but I thought it may be all right. Until...until he brought Theon out one night and introduced him as Reek," Jeyne began breathing more and more quickly as she spoke. "At first I was glad to see Theon so broken after what he did to your brothers. But the night of our wedding I learned Ramsey is evil. Theon wasn't being punished for betraying your family. Ramsey never cared about your family. Ramsey hurts us because he likes it." 

Jeyne's breathing was coming so fast. Too fast. Her grip on Sansa's shoulders had become painful. 

Sansa fought to untangle herself and fumbled in her pocket for the vial of sleeping draught the Maester had given her for Jeyne. 

After a while of rubbing Jeyne's back and whispering promises of safety and protection, she was able to convince Jeyne to drink the draught. 

As Jeyne's breathing relaxed and she drifted to sleep, Sansa thought about her time in Kings Landing after her father died.  
How Littlefinger offered her safety and protection.  
What were his intentions for her?  
Would she have been Ramsey's bride?

She remembered her father reluctantly accepting meetings with Littlefinger before he lost his head.  
Now she hears Littlefinger had soldiers in his pocket?  
Soliders in the same City Guard that arrested her father and killed Septa Mordane.  
And then there was her Aunt Lysa's untimely "accident". 

Sansa was certain that Littlefinger is dangerous. But Stannis would require more than the word of a scared girl fleeing the Boltons.  
It could appear to the skeptic that Jeyne may have been sent to their camp with tales of horror to cause division when they could scarcely afford to lose the support of the Vale. And Stannis was nothing if not skeptical. 

Sansa would not have her friend doubted and accused. 

She would have to think of another way to expose Littlefinger. 

And she would start with securing the friendship of Yohn Royce.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welp. Ramsey sucks.  
> Jeyne finds her way.  
> And Sansa gets a happy surprise.

A week later, as dawn broke, a rider baring the standard of House Bolton approached the camp to deliver a letter. 

Stannis called in all of the war council members.

The letter was vile, full of threats and horror.  
Threats against Jeyne (Arya), Theon (Reek), Stannis, Selyse and even little Shireen.  
The letter was signed Ramsey Bolton, Warden of the North. 

Stannis threw the letter down in disgust as pandemonium broke in the tent.  
After several minutes of wild shouting, Davos unleashed an ear splitting whistle. 

Sansa took advantage of the momentary silence to speak.  
"Your Grace, may I speak freely?" 

Stannis gave a curt nod and motioned for her to continue. 

"We can assume Roose Bolton is either dead or wishes he was. I haven't a care either way. The woman who fled with Theon Greyjoy is not my sister Arya. Her name is Jeyne. She was my childhood friend, taken from Kings Landing and held by Petyr Baelish. He convinced her to act as my sister to wed Ramsey Bolton. My guess is to provide stability to the Bolton hold over people still loyal to House Stark. I have seen the evidence of Ramsey's violence on Jeyne's body with my own eyes. He is a brute. And he may have the men who served Roose under his thumb but they are not loyal. Merely afraid.  
We have the numbers to beat him with the assistance of the Vale. I want Baelish to be held accountable for his actions but not until this battle is won.  
Please , I beg you, study the strategies that won battles for my brother. Roose Bolton was my brother's most trusted advisor. Use Robb's victories against the Boltons. Find the strategy Ramsey will likely use in those plans. Surprise him. Show him he's nothing but a boy playing a grown man's war.  
Save my people. Your people. And I promise you House Stark will not fail to heed your call."

Stannis studied her from beneath his heavy brows. Another curt nod was his only reply. 

The counsel went on well into the afternoon. More talking, yelling and table pounding ensued.

After dinner, Sansa returned to her tent to find Jeyne practing drawing a dagger from her belt.  
In the days Jeyne had been at camp she had spent most of her time with Free Folk women. The women were teaching both Sansa and Jeyne rudimentary skills of blade fighting.  
Sansa recalled the first afternoon of their lessons.  
After several hours of being flung into the dirt on their backsides learning how to break a hold, Sansa and Jeyne learned. And they had the bruises and sore pride to show for it. 

Jeyne had taken to wearing breeches and plaiting her hair into tight braids like the Free Folk women as well.

This was not the same prissy girl who mercilessly teased Arya for her tomboy ways. 

They spent most of their evenings at the Free Folk campfire. Sansa even tried Tormund's awful fermented goat's milk.  
She wasn't sure which was worse, the taste of the goats milk or Tormund's well intentioned pounding on her back as she sputtered it back up. 

Of the many things she was grateful to Tormund for, she was most grateful for news of her half-brother Jon.  
Tormund knew Jon fairly well and they had become friends.  
He explained that the song about the crow in love with a girl with fire in her hair was written by their king Mance in honor of Jon and Ygritte.  
He told her of Mance's death and Jon's mercy. 

Sansa did not enjoy Tormund's remarks about her brother's "pecker" but she was happy to hear he was safe and respected as Lord Commander. 

As the camp grew larger with more soldiers arriving by the day, news reached them that the knights of the Vale would be arriving within a fortnight lead by Lord Baelish.  
Only the members of the war council knew of the suspicions regarding Littlefinger and though it was difficult not to feel tension amongst themselves, all of the war council members joined their men in the revelry throughout the camp that night.  
Even Stannis walked taller. 

As Jeyne began to find her way to peace, there wasn't much change in Theon.  
Sansa left notes at the guardhouse imploring Theon to meet with her but her notes remained unread.  
She began to fear Theon's mind was fractured beyond reach.  
Jeyne could not bear to discuss what happened to Theon. Sansa respected that.  
She often felt at war with herself regarding Theon.  
Sometimes she had to force herself not to march into the tent and shake Theon until his teeth rattled.  
And other times she found herself sadly remembering the boy Theon used to be.  
A thousand questions weighed on her heart and the only answers were locked inside of a broken man's mind. 

With the increased activity at the camp, Sansa grew to enjoy taking a walk by herself in the mornings to ponder on the problem with Theon. It was easier to think in the quiet before the camp grew active.  
She now made sure to stay within sight of camp guards for her peace of mind (and theirs.)  
She was surrounded by thousands of men and horses but in the soft morning light, she enjoyed the illusion of being on her own. 

One bright morning as she walked along a field dotted with cheerful wild flowers she saw riders approaching in the distance.  
As they came closer Sansa could make out the group of three riders and what appeared to be a large white pony following them.  
That was odd. 

The guards watching over Sansa must have also found something odd about the group as well. The guards began walking toward her. 

Slowly it became clear it was not a white pony but a large white wolf.  
A solid white direwolf the size of a pony.  
Sansa's heart began to pound.  
She only knew of one solid white direwolf in the world. Jon's wolf Ghost.  
Before Sansa could stop herself she screamed out "Ghost!"  
The entire party of riders stopped as the direwolf took off toward Sansa at a frightening speed.  
The guards with Sansa shouted in alarm as the great wolf bore down upon them.  
Sansa yelled at the guards over her shoulder as she ran toward the wolf "Stop. He's my brother's wolf!" 

Seconds before collision, Sansa dropped to her knees and flung her arms out wide as the wolf leapt. 

There was a great tangle of giggling girl, flying skirts and white wolf all rolling over the wildflowers. 

The guards stood by looking terrified but made no move to separate girl and beast. 

Sansa finally sat up, laughing, pushing hair off her face while Ghost licked at her nose and wriggled around trying to sit on her lap like he was still a pup. 

As Sansa looked up, she saw Jon staring at her. He was standing stock still, mouth agape.  
For a moment Sansa's mind whispered "Father?" Jon was a man now. Tall and strong, looking so much like her father except for his wild black curls. 

Sansa scrambled to her feet and launched herself at her brother. 

The minute his arms closed around her a sob tore from her throat and all of the tears she held inside her heart since her father was killed released. 

They held each other, oblivious to Sansa's guards and Jon's Free Folk companions. 

It was only when Ghost began to wriggle his body between theirs that they stepped back laughing.  
Neither could break the connection completely and they stood clutching each other's hands as Ghost sat, gently leaning his great head against Sansa's shoulder. 

Suddenly alarm shot through Sansa. Had Jon deserted The Watch?  
If he had, Stannis could not find out. 

"Jon, how are you here? You're in furs like the Free Folk. What has happened? Are you alright..." Sansa stumbled over herself firing questions at Jon as she finally noticed his companions. 

The most beautiful and fierce looking woman Sansa had ever seen met Sansa's gaze. She was Free Folk and she stood proud and strong. 

Jon noticed Sansa's attention was diverted and he told her "This is Val. She is the princess of Free Folk and a good friend. She saved my life and brought me here. She needs to see Tormund Giantsbane. And I need to see Stannis."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunate attempts at winking and good bonding time.

Sansa stood outside the council tent pacing back and forth trying to hear anything Jon, Stannis and Davos were discussing.  
Ghost lay with his head on his paws following her with his eyes.  
The guard at the entrance to the tent glared at her. In her agitation, Sansa glared right back at him. 

Every time a raised voice came from the tent, Sansa stopped to stare at the tent as if somehow that would help her understand what was happening.  
Ghost merely flicked his ears back but continued to rest.  
Sansa took that as a good sign. 

Finally as Jon exited the tent, Ghost sprang onto his feet.  
Jon held out his arm to Sansa and said "Walk with me someplace quiet and I'll tell you everything." 

The walk back to the field of wildflowers took no more than a quarter of an hour but it felt like an eternity. Sansa studied her brother's face looking for any stress or fear. Jon merely smiled at her and tried to wink. Sadly, it came across as a stuttered blink. It was not as reassuring as one might think. 

When they reached the flattened area where Sansa met Ghost, Jon gestured for her to sit and as he lowered himself to join her on the ground he began his tale.  
"A fortnight ago I received a note that Uncle Benjen had finally returned. I was so relieved that I rushed out without even taking my sword.  
It was a ruse to get me into the courtyard in a hurry. When I got there, I saw a sign with the word "Traitor". Then several men from the Nights Watch, men I thought of as brothers, took turns stabbing me." 

Sansa gasped in shock. She reached out to grab Jon's hand, frantically scanning his body as if he were still bleeding. 

"It's alright, Sansa. I'm alright now," he soothed. "But that night, I died." 

Sansa felt her blood run cold. How was he here? Sitting in the sun with her. Looking hale and strong? 

Jon gave her hand a squeeze. "The men who stabbed me and left me for dead accused me of betraying them and our realm by giving the Free Folk safe passage.  
Sansa, I had no choice.  
There are...monsters on the other side of the Wall. Walking dead men who only want to kill the living. I fought them at Hardhome. I saw their leader. It was the worst fight of my life. And as we loaded the last boat of Free Folk, he raised the fallen to join his army. How could I leave people behind? How could anyone?" 

Jon closed his eyes and tilted his head back. Sansa saw a dozen emotions cross his face and he breathed deeply trying to calm himself. 

Sansa let go of his hand only to shuffle closer to him. She looped her arm around his and took his hand again.  
She wanted to be closer to her brother. The half-brother she never thought to see again and now could not bear to let go of. 

"I don't know how long I lay there, bleeding in the snow. Everything went dark for a time. And then I was Ghost. I could see through his eyes, hear through his ears. There were no thoughts. Just urges. Hunt, sleep, thirst.  
I could see my own body, laying on a table. I could see the wounds.  
My brother in the Watch, my true brother, Edd, moved my body inside a storage room and sent word for the Free Folk.  
I was told a fight ensued. The Free Folk captured the men who killed me.  
They had my body on a pyre.  
I was Ghost and I could see them about to burn me. Not that I blamed them after seeing what we saw at Hardhome.  
The torches were ready when the horn blew to announcer a rider. The Lady Melissandre." 

Sansa rared back in surprise, her lips forming a perfect "O".

Jon chuckled bitterly. "Know her, do ya? Hmph. She told them to stop. Said she could bring me back. That it was the red god's will that I live.  
She had me brought back inside. She washed me, cut my hair, cut my beard. Chanted in a language I didn't recognize. All of the sudden, I felt like I was being ripped apart. I could feel myself leaving Ghost and coming back to my body.  
I felt every stab wound. The pain was so unbearable I could hardly breathe. I lay there gasping. I couldn't move.  
The red woman leaned over me. She raised a dagger to my throat and said her god needed the living blood of a king as a sacrifice to bring Azor Ahai. She started to make the cut and Ghost jumped between us. He was snarling. I'd never heard him make a sound before. Val heard Ghost and came running. She grabbed the red woman by the throat and the ruby necklace, the one the red woman always wore...it came off in Val' s hand....and..." Jon paused, closing his eyes before he continued. "I swear to you I'm not lying. She changed. The red woman changed into a frail old woman right in front of us. Val was taking no chances so she stabbed the red woman through the heart. Killed her." 

Sansa sat still in shock trying to process. The living blood of a king.  
Did Melissandre truly believe she could bring Azor Ahai to life? Did she truly believe Jon had the blood of a king?  
Or was she mad? 

"After that, I told the remaining men my watch was over. I did what I thought was right and they killed me for it.," Jon raised their intwinned hands to his lips and gently kissed her fingers. "I had no where else to go. So I came here. To fight. To start over. I had no idea I'd find a reason to live again. But here you are." 

Sansa promptly burst into tears.  
"Oh Jon. I have so much to tell you." 

Sansa told him everything. 

He joined her with his own tears when he heard Arya and Rickon may be alive. She had to physically restrain him from going to find Theon. He raged against the Lannisters. And they held each other telling stories of Robb and Bran. 

As the afternoon gave way to twilight, a companionable silence settled between all three of them. 

Something kept tickling the back of Sansa's brain about the blood of kings.  
"Jon, do you know anyone at the Citadel?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle for Winterfell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter but hopefully a good one.

The commanders of the Knights of the Vale began to arrive a few days later to a hearty welcome. Lord Baelish and Yohn Royce would now join the war council. 

Scouts had reported the Bolton army was preparing for assault to come from the East, the direction of the Baratheon encampment.  
The godswood was not being heavily guarded so Jon would lead the Free Folk through the godswood and into the underground tunnel system to breach the castle from the inside.  
Stannis' soldiers would lead the charge holding a tight formation out of the Bolton's archer's range before splitting into two columns once the infantry was engaged. Stannis was holding his most seasoned fighters in reserve for the second wave of attacks with the Knights of the Vale.  
If Ramsey retreated and tried to stage a siege, the Free Folk would be waiting inside. 

As plans were finalized, Sansa felt a cold trickle of panic creep up her spine.  
She just reunited with Jon. And only now had she truly felt love for him in her heart beyond the love of familial obligation. Underneath his brooding lay a warmth Sansa regrets not having known until now.  
She reached for Jon's hand under the table and entwined her fingers with his. Jon gave her a soft smile.  
Sansa gave him a soft smile back.  
A smile which quickly faded as she noticed Littlefinger watching her. 

The days passed quickly, too quickly, and the night before the battle the camp was quiet.  
Sansa, Jon, Tormund, Val and Jeyne spent the evening around a campfire with the Free Folk.  
Stannis spent most of the night staring at maps in the war tent.  
Davos walked the camp alone thinking of his wife and their sons. 

Before they parted, Sansa gifted Jon with a handkerchief embroidered with a snarling white direwolf.   
"Bring this back to me, Jon," she said, voice thick with unshed tears.  
Jon examined Sansa's stitches and gave her a sweet smile before placing his hands on either side of her face to pull her toward him for a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I would love nothing more," he replied.

As dawn broke the war horn called the soldiers into formation. Ghost was enclosed inside a large kennel much to his displeasure.  
Jeyne stayed with the Free Folk children in their camp area.  
Sansa, Selyse, Shireen were sequestered inside the war council tent with two guards posted at each entrance. 

Selyse stared into the brazier and mumbled prayers to the red god.  
Sansa, whose patience was stretched thin by nerves and a lack of sleep, paced the tent.  
Shireen watched her mother and Sansa in turns.  
As the call to march was given, Sansa began to pray as well.  
To the old gods and to the Seven. 

As the sound of marching grew more faint, a dull roar of sound reached them.  
It was the roar of men fighting and dying. The roar of swords clashing, horses running and falling, curses and violence. 

Sansa wanted to cover her ears but she would not allow herself. She had called the banners. She asked men to leave their homes and their families to fight for her home and her family. She could not fight beside them but she would not abandon them, even in the privacy of the tent. 

After hours and hours, the roaring changed tone. It almost sounded the sound of cheering.  
Sansa was too afraid to hope. Her heart seemed to skip several beats all at once.  
Just as she could stand the suspense no more, one of the guards burst into the tent, wide eyed and smiling as he bowed to Selyse.  
"Your Grace, Bolton is dead. His remaining men have surrendered. His Grace has won!"


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of battle.  
> Stark banners are unfurled.  
> And the Riverrun Blues

Sansa and most everyone else who had stayed behind in the camp were hurried to larger tents closer to the battle field to attend the injured. 

Sansa wanted to go straight to the field but her guards exchanged a wary glance before explaining the men, even her own men. would have their blood up after a fight and it was not safe. They could not risk losing sight of her in the chaos, even for just a moment. 

A separate tent had been designated solely for the Silent Sisters to care for the bodies of the dead.  
As she passed by their tent Sansa wanted to weep. Now was not the time for her tears, so she merely nodded her thanks to the Sisters standing vigil outside their tent's entrance. 

As she entered the infirmary tent, she was given a basket filled with strips of fabric, a skin of water, needles, thread, small vials of milk of the poppy and small jars of herbal tinctures.  
It was not enough to help everyone but she hoped to help a few at least. 

The tent was already filling with the injured men.  
The air stunk of sweat, blood, smoke, horseflesh and shit.  
The cries and screams of the injured would haunt Sansa for the rest of her life. War was no game, she thought, and there were terrible losses to be had, even on the winning side. 

Sansa ran from cot to pallet stitching wounds and giving comfort wherever she could. She tried to give her attention completely to whatever task she was doing but she desperately wanted news on Jon. Was he alive? Was he hurt? Did he need her? 

The Maesters from several of the houses who had pledged men to fight were tending the most grievously injured while Sansa and other laypersons tended and mended soliders as best they could. 

When Sansa heard a commotion at the tent entrance, she was overcome with relief to see a scowling Tormund refusing to come inside for stitches.  
Sansa ran to his side. "Tormund! Thank the gods! Are you alright? Where is Jon? How is Princess Val? Are you hurt? Do you need..."  
Tormund interrupted her rapid fire questions with holding up both hands in a gesture of surrender.  
"I'm alright, Little Red. Just a scratch," he scowled at the guard who walked him inside the tent.  
"The Princess is fine. Jon is fine. He went to free his wolf." 

Sansa sagged with relief. She led Tormund to a corner of the tent hoping it would be a bit more quiet. As she went about cleaning and stitching Tormund's shoulder wounds, he told her what happened once they set out that morning.  
The entrance to the tunnel they used to break into Winterfell was being guarded by a single man.  
Ramsey and his advisors were not aware of how vunerable the tunnels made them.  
After killing the guard, it was a matter of waiting until they heard another blast of the war horn to emerge into the castle proper.  
They did encounter some Bolton men once inside the castle though. When the obvious leader of the Bolton men began twirling his long daggers and asked if the "godless Wildling scum" were prepared to dance with demons Val simply said "Yes" and loosed an arrow from her short crossbow. The arrow hit the Bolton man in the center of his chest. The other Bolton men froze in momentary shock and that was just what the Free Folk needed to rush the Bolton men with a savage, relentless attack. Tormund took two sword wounds to the shoulder and there were other injuries to the Free Folk fighters but they were all essentially alright.  
Sansa put her arm around Tormund's good shoulder while cooing about his bravery.  
As soon as she finished applying a salve to the neatly stitched wounds Tormund stood, no longer scowling, but giving her a crooked grin, as he told her to come to the Free Folk camp when she could.  
"Tormund," Sansa said quietly, "Please take our Jeyne aside when you get to your camp and tell her Ramsey is dead. And tell her I am here and I will find her as soon as I can."  
Tormund nodded and clasped her shoulder before he walked into the crowd. 

Sansa worked well into the night. Order had slowly come as less seriously injured men were tended to and shuffled out.  
Sansa was finishing the stitches on the leg of an unconscious young man, who looked close to the age Bran would be now when she felt a hand on her elbow.  
"Sansa..." Jon started to say before she threw herself into his arms and buried her face in the crook of his neck.  
"Jon! Are you alright? Are you hurt? I was so afraid. I..."  
"Shh. Hush now. I'm alright. I'm here," Jon whispered to her.

Sansa stepped back, hands still clutching his back. They broke into huge grins and then Sansa sighed in relief. 

"Come on. You need food and rest," Jon urged. 

"There's still so much to do," she protested, looking around the tent.

"And it's well in hand for an hour or two. Come on. I've brought dinner. And Ghost misses you terribly." 

Sansa had to admit she was hungry and her back was beginning to ache as well.  
"Alright. But only for Ghostie," she said with a tired grin. 

A quick dinner under the stars by firefight with Jon by her side.and Ghost at her feet was restorative.

Sansa returned to the infirmary and continued stitching, comforting and writing letters for as many men as she could before exhaustion overtook her. 

After being escorted to her tent she kicked off her boots and unlaced her dress before falling face down into her furs, almost asleep as soon as she landed. 

When morning came, there was no resting upon laurels.  
The bodies of the fallen were burned on great pyres.  
Bolton men were burned with every flayed man banner the servants could joyfully rip down from Winterfell's walls. 

Winterfell itself was being cleaned from top to bottom. Rooms were being prepared for Stannis and his family and of course, Sansa and Jon as well. 

As they stood together with Ghost in the courtyard, Sansa and Jon held each other's hands in a tight grip as the banner of House Stark was unfurled down the castle wall.  
Sansa began to tremble. Her eyes filling with tears. Joy, regret, sorrow and hope soared through her.  
Jon chewed on his lower lip and blinked back his own tears. 

There was feasting and revelry in the next week.  
Stannis and Davos were frequent visitors to the infirmary.  
Stannis was not known as a friendly man by nature but Davos' easy charm helped bridge any gaps in conversation with the soldiers. 

On a cloudy morning two weeks after the battle was won Scouts had arrived to report House Frey had laid seige on Riverrun, her mother's ancestral home, on the behalf of King Tommen.

Sansa's uncle Edmure was being held captive by his in laws while her great uncle Brynden held the castle with the Tully army. 

Brynden, better know as The Blackfish, would never yield. He refused to parlay with the Freys. 

Sansa did not know her uncles well but they were her family. And Riverrun was as much a part of her heritage as Winterfell.  
And defeating House Frey would avenge the murders of her mother and brother while also opening the Twins for Stannis' men to pass through the Riverlands on their way South. 

Stannis was a bit eager to move from the North before summer turned to fall and the snows began.  
Though he was reluctant to began marching quite so soon.  
His men needed time to recover and the men of the Northern army needed to spend time with their families.

Some of the Free Folk were choosing to continue to fight along with the kneelers. The rest were traveling to The Gift to establish a homestead. 

It was decided the combined armies would begin marching within a months time. 

Sansa, while in full support of King Stannis, was diving headlong into her duties as the Lady of Winterfell and Warden of the North.  
The Boltons had left the coffers in surprisingly good shape.  
Sansa was able to generously reward the houses who aided House Stark.  
She and Jon met with the head of each house privately to discuss their needs and provide what they could.

She had invited the head of House Reed, Howland Reed, to her solar to discuss the very matter of reward and thanks.  
As the cranogman entered Sansa's solar, he smiled widely at Sansa and Jon before taking a seat.  
"I have a story to tell you Jon Snow. A story about your mother."


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please heed the newly added relationship tag. If this pairing is not your jam, fair enough.  
> Thank you for reading this far and giving this a chance. God Speed and Best Wishes. 
> 
> If you're down for it...lets go!

Sansa and Jon sat in stunned silence as Howland Reed told them about the day at the Tower of Joy when he and Ned Stark fought their way through the finest swordsmen in the Targaryen's Kngsguard to rescue Lyanna Stark. 

Ned found his sister in a blood soaked bed, cradling her newborn son.  
Lyanna told Ned she had run away with Prince Rhaegar willingly. They fell in love during the tourney at Harrenhal. They were secretly married. Many a Targaryen king had two wives. The septon assured them the marriage was fair and binding. 

When war broke out, Lynanna learned she was with child and so Rhaegar sequestered her in Dorne, at the Tower of Joy, for her safety.

Ned was beside himself pleading for a Maester for his beloved sister. But it was too late. Lyanna had lost too much blood bringing the babe into the world. There was nothing left to do to help her except listen to her story and protect her child from the wrath of Robert Baratheon.

As Lyanna began to fade away, she whispered to Ned that Rhaegar wanted the boy to be called Aegeon but she wanted him to be named Jon. 

Lyanna's last words were 'Protect him, Promise me, Ned.'

Ned wept as he promised his sister to protect her boy. 

"You are a Stark by blood and you are Targaryen by blood," Howland said softly. "You are the rightful king of the seven kingdoms." 

Jon stood abruptly, hands covering his mouth. Sansa reached up to touch his arm, tears swimming in her eyes.  
Jon jerked away from her as if he could not bear it. 

Howland sighed. "Jon, please know that Ned loved you like a son. He wanted you raised with his children. We concocted the story of you being his bastard on the way back from Dorne. We knew no other way to get you to Winterfell, to safety," Howland stood and walked slowly toward Jon.  
"I know it can't have been easy, believing you were a bastard..." 

Jon gave a bark of bitter laughter and closed his eyes. 

"I am sorry Jon. Truly. We did what we thought was right. What would keep you safe. Ned always planned to tell you when Robert died. But he couldn't. And that's why I'm telling you now. Because I think it's right. Robert is dead. You are no longer beholden to the Night's Watch. You can claim the throne. Or you can continue to be Jon Snow. You've lived with our choices your whole life. I think you have the right to make your own choices now." 

Jon stared at Howland for a few seconds. Sansa had never seen him look so angry. She honestly feared Jon would strike Howland.  
But Jon simply turned and stalked out of the room, slamming the doors behind him. 

Sansa released a shaky breath and slumped back into her chair as Howland stood looking at the floor. 

After a moment Sansa asked "Who else knows?" 

Howland returned to his seat, telling her "There may be a record of the marriage buried in a tome at the Citadel. Everyone else who would know save for the midwife and myself are dead." 

"There was priestess of the red god, Lady Melissandre. She brought Jon back from the dead after he was killed by some of his men from the Watch. She said she had to bring Jon back because she needed the blood of a living king. She needed the blood to bring Azor Ahai to life. If she knew Jon had the blood of a living king, who else knows or at least suspects?" Sansa mused. 

Howland shook his head slowly. "I swear to you, I've told no one." 

Sansa held up her hand in a gesture of peace. "I believe you. Truly. Lady Melissandre may very well have seen it in her flames," Sansa grimaced. "But I fear for Jon. Robert may be dead but Stannis will not take kindly to a threat against his claim to the throne especially when it's beginning to seem as though he may win it." 

Sansa stood. "I am going to find him. He may not want my company right now but I want to offer it." As she walked past Howland, she laid a hand on his shoulder. "Your burden is eased now. You have done your duty. I only ask that when he is ready, you tell him all that you remember of Lyanna. He knows the legends and tales. You knew her truly. Tell him about his mother as a young girl. That's what he will want to know." 

Howland reached up and clasped her hand as he nodded. 

"Sansa," he called as she reached the door of her solar. "My children left home to find your brother Brandon. My eldest son Jojen was a powerful greenseer. He had dreams of Brandon. He believed Brandon was alive. I haven't heard from either Jojen or my daughter Meera since they left. I would ask you, my lady, should you receive any word of your brother or my children that you would let me know " 

"My Lord," Sansa began tentatively. "As far as we know the story of Theon Greyjoy killing my brothers still stands true. I would not want to give you any false hope..." 

Howland held up his hand. "My Lady, my son used to send me dreams. Dreams of your brother and a wolf and gentle Hodor. The dreams stopped a month ago. I no longer feel a connection to my son. But I still feel my daughter's heartbeat within my own. I believe she is still alive and I hope she is with your Brandon. I have no proof. Only a father's foolish hope. But it is enough to keep me tethered to this life." 

Sansa felt a cold chill racing through her body. She wanted to believe Bran was still alive. Yet she was almost too afraid to hope. Never did she think it possible that her siblings might be alive.  
If there was the slightest chance, she had to see it through. 

Sansa asked "Did you see anything in your dreams that might tell us where they went?"

"Only snow," Howland replied. 

Sansa left Howland after assuring him she would ask the Free Folk for any tales of a girl with curly brown hair, a wolf and a boy being carried by a giant of a man in the snows beyond the Wall. 

She walked quickly through the castle looking for Jon. She thought her best bets would be his room, the training yard or the crypts. 

She found him in the crypts, sitting at the base of Lyanna's statue. He was resting his head in his hands, sniffing. Ghost lay at Jon's feet looking forlornly at his master. 

Sansa approached slowly, not wanting to startle Jon.  
Jon did startle as she said his name though.  
She held her hands up and said "If you want to be left alone..."  
He interrupted her with a firm "No!"  
Sansa nodded to herself and gathered her skirts as she lowered herself to sit beside him.  
Jon grabbed at her hand as she settled her back against the stone base of the statue. She scanned Jon's face but he continued to stare at the ground. 

They sat in silence for a while, holding hands. Both occasionally staring up at Lyanna's statue as if waiting for it to speak. 

Finally Jon whispered "I'm so angry. I don't think I've ever been this angry. My whole life...my whole life is a lie." 

Sansa drew a breath as she squeezed his hand and whispered "Yes." 

Jon scrambled to his feet and began to pace in circles. He suddenly stopped and covered his face with his hands.  
"My mother is dead," his voice broke.  
"She's gone. I spent my whole life wanting to know her. I wondered if she just didn't want me or if father took me from her. I thought he would tell me about her. He told me he would tell me..." Jon's voice trailed off as he looked to her father's statue. 

"He lied to me. He lied and he lied and he lied!" Jon's voice began getting louder and she could see his hands beginning to tremble. 

Sansa simply looked up at him and said "Yes." 

"And your mother," Jon said with a bitter laugh. "He obviously never told her the truth. Gods...I used to want her to love me so badly. It was the only thing I ever wanted. For her to just hold me one time..." Jon stared at her father's statue, rage and grief at war across his face. 

Sansa closed her eyes, feeling angry with her mother in that moment.  
"Yes," she said softly. 

"How different would my life had been had I known. Had we all known," Jon's voice was eerily calm as he said this. 

He suddenly unsheathed his sword with barely a sound and swung around to strike her father's statue.  
Sansa gasped as sparks flew from the stone.  
She was not afraid of Jon but she knew men could be reckless when they are in pain.  
Sansa scrambled to her feet to back away from Jon. 

As her foot kicked a pebble, Jon seemed to snap back to himself.  
He dropped his sword with a clang and launched himself at her. 

Before she knew what was happening, she felt his lips pressed against her lips and his hands around her waist, pulling her body into his.  
Sansa was too surprised to move.  
She accepted his kiss as her mind raced. 

She had been kissed before. Joffrey forced kisses upon her. A dry, artless, painful smashing of his lips against hers as his grip on her arms held her in place and left her bruised. 

The Imp had kissed her at their wedding ceremony.  
It was a quick, fleeting brush of his lips past hers.  
She wasn't completely sure there was much, if any, actual contact between them. 

Jon's kiss was different.  
She was surprised by it, to say the least, but she was not afraid.  
Even as he was pulling her closer and closer, he wasn't hurting her. 

Putting aside the turmoil over their current familial status, Sansa did feel warm. He was gentle. His lips and his hands were gentle.  
For the first time in her life she allowed herself to wonder if she enjoyed being kissed.  
If kisses could be like this all the time, she thinks she would like to be kissed.  
Kissed well and often. 

The sound of a soft moan broke her thoughts. She wasn't entirely sure which of them made the sound. 

Jon moved his hands from her waist up to the sides of her face. He held her face gently between his hands as his thumbs stroked her cheekbones.  
She felt his tongue beginning to poke into her mouth.  
That was....odd.  
Was he doing it right? 

She felt him begin to propel her backward as the kiss deepened.  
Soon her back would be against the wall.  
And he was so close to her.  
Suddenly it was too much.  
She pulled her lips free from his and gasped. 

Jon opened his eyes and immediately released her.  
He blew out a frustrated breath as he stepped back. "Sansa. I'm sorry. Gods. I'm so sorry." 

He shook his head and plunged a hand through his hair and turned from her. 

He deftly retrieved his sword and began walking toward the entrance to the crypts. 

"Jon, please," she called after him. "Please don't go. Come back." 

"I can't be here. I'm sorry," he said, barely looking at her over his shoulder.  
He sheathed his sword as he walked away.  
Ghost scrambled to his feet and cast a worried look at her.  
Sansa motioned for Ghost to follow Jon. 

Sansa felt tears fall onto her cheeks as she looked at her father's statue.  
"Oh father. What do I do now?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yikes. This chapter is long!  
> Writing dialogue is hard for me but I'm trying to learn.  
> All typos and cringy grammatical errors are all on me.  
> Thank you for sticking with me.

Over the next few days Jon managed to avoid her by staying in the training yard. He was there at first light and he stayed until well into the evening.

Despite her frustration, she decided to give him space for a few days.  
And then they were going to talk, even if she had to send a guard to his chamber and request an audience with him in the middle of the night. 

Jon had been her near constant companion since they had been reunited. She was worried about him. And she missed him. She missed their evening walks and fireside conversations.  
She missed passing him the rest of her bread at meal times. She even missed his appalling impression of Old Nan. 

She also missed how much Jon's (and Ghost's) presence at her side kept visitors at bay. 

Begining on the second day after Jon began avoiding her, many of the Lords still staying at the castle began stopping by her solar to discuss their sons or grandsons.  
A Maester from House Cerwyn had even given her a document outlining the exact procedure for obtaining an annulment of marriage.

On the fourth day, Sansa received word that Theon was asking to speak with her.  
She had been told Theon was showing improvement since the battle and  
she desperately wanted to find out the truth about Bran and Rickon if that was possible.  
As she walked through the courtyard, Litterfinger stepped into her path. 

He bowed to her while saying "My lady, may I join you?"

Sansa did not want to walk anywhere with him under any circumstances but she would rather any conversation they share be conducted in public.  
"Thank you Lord Baelish. I am going to the infirmary."  
"I hope you are not unwell, my lady?" he asked her. His voice sounded sincere but his eyes held no warmth. 

"I intend to visit Theon Greyjoy," she replied, dismayed to feel Littlefinger take her hand to wrap around his arm.

"My lady, I must say I am surprised considering his betrayal of your family," Baelish looked at her from the corner of his eye.  
Sansa wanted to strike his face. She wanted to free the dagger in her sleeve and press it to his neck while she demanded the truth from him. But she could not. Not yet. Not while he held her little cousin in his grasp. On the other hand, if he had the gall to speak to her of betrayal, she would pull that thread gladly. 

"I want to know why he betrayed us, Lord Baelish. Was it for power? Did he feel we had mistreated him? Was he that jealous of my....brothers? What would motivate a man to destroy a family who never intentionally harmed him?" Sansa mused while watching Littlefinger's face. A face that gave away nothing as he seemed to consider her questions.

Littlefinger stopped their walk and turned to her. "Perhaps he's always been a mad man. Perhaps he felt justified in destroying the family who took away the life he felt he deserved. No one can know the true motivations of any man, my lady," he replied. 

"Perhaps you are right, Lord Baelish," she replied, taking his arm again and continuing their walk. "Perhaps in his own mind he felt justified in doing the horrible things he's done. Murder, lies, manipulations. He wanted us beneath his boot and now he sits in shackles. But that is not enough. I will see him punished for what he did. If it takes a year, ten years, a lifetime. I will see him punished." 

As they reached the doorway of the infirmary, Baelish eyed her speculatively.  
He unwrapped her hand from his arm to press a kiss onto the back of her hand. 

Sansa gazed at him thoughtfully.  
"Lord Baelish, I must tell you that I was terribly saddened to hear of my Aunt Lysa's passing. I will admit that I did not know her well, but my mother often spoke fondly of your shared childhood adventures together. I have been thinking of my poor cousin Robin, all alone in the Eyrie. Perhaps you can arrange for him to visit? I should like to see him. He is my family. And as you know, I have so little family left. My mother and father are gone. Theon killed my brothers. And poor Arya was likely killed by her vile Bolton husband. I would like my cousin to be close to me." 

Littlefinger's smile slid into a smirk as he leaned closer to her ear.  
"Yes. You do like to keep your family close, don't you, sweetling. How is your dear half- brother this morning? Do you know? Ah, probably not. He has been spending his days in the training yard ever since he left you in the crypt." 

Sansa felt a flush of anger. Of course he was having her spied on. It was a misstep on her part for forgetting this man's modus operandi. She forced herself to laugh prettily.  
"Lord Baelish, I cannot imagine my comings and goings are of any real interest to anyone." 

"Ah. The business of the Lady of Winterfell and Warden of the North is of keen interest to everyone in the castle. Her comings, her goings, her private meetings, her lovers..." 

Sansa's eyes flashed to his.  
"Lord Baelish, I appreciate your concern...." 

"And it is genuine concern, my lady," he said smoothly. Everyone in Kings Landing knew your marriage to the Imp remained unconsumated. You are free to marry again at your leisure once your first, unfortunate marriage is annuled. Every Lord in the North has already begun to parade his progeny before you as a candidate for marriage. So yes, my lady. What you do and with whom you entangle yourself is of very keen concern to everyone." 

Littlefinger took her hand again and clasped it between his.  
"You are well within your rights to choose any man you wish...to marry," he said slyly. "I only caution you to carefully consider how closely you are observed. And how much people like to talk." He bowed as he kissed the back of her hand. 

Sansa was infuriated.  
She gently withdrew her hand from his grasp as he stepped back. 

Littlefinger quirked an eyebrow at her. "Your cousin Robin is the Lord of the Eyrie and commander of the Knights of the Vale. So much responsibility for so young of a child. He needs so much guidance. I am happy to have him rely upon me as your Aunt Lysa did. Even as your mother did at one time. Perhaps if Robin came to visit, you may grow close. I'm sure your gentle care would help our Robin blossom. Though I fear he may not survive the travel for he is so sickly. So fragile. I am very honored to be his guardian and offer him my counsel... as I would be honored to offer you my counsel."

Sansa tried not to bristle. "Pray tell, Lord Baelish. What counsel would you offer me?" 

Littlefinger smiled. "I would consel you to consider a union between the North and the Vale through marriage." 

Sansa scoffed. "And who would be my groom?" 

"Oh there are several possibilities, my lady. You are young and beautiful. A powerful woman. There are several strong, noble men within the Eyrie. Harold Hardying, for example. He has been named Robin's heir....an unpleasant necessity due to Robin's fragile health.  
If it should please you, I would be happy to make an introduction. Harold does not possess a head for ruling but of course I would pledge myself to you as a liaison. A confidant. I would be there for you, my lady, as I would have been there for your mother." 

Sansa carefully bit down on her tongue and released a breath before she nodded to him. "I will keep that in mind, Lord Baelish. Good day." 

She slipped inside the door to the infirmary and leaned against it as she fumed.  
She would need to speak to Yohn Royce today about her cousin Robin's well-being.  
Gathering her wits, she approached the guard and asked for Theon. 

Theon was brought into the room, shackled once again, but looking considerably better than the last time Sansa saw him. He was standing straighter and was much less gaunt.  
His hair had gone mostly white and his pallor was still ashen.  
But still, It was an improvement. 

Theon sat in the chair across from her, head down.  
"I'm here Theon. I want the truth about Bran and Rickon. Did you kill them?" 

Theon released a shuddering breath and looked up at her. "No. I was going to. I intended to. But they were gone. With Osha, Hodor and the wolves." 

Sansa sat back, hope percolating in her veins for her brothers.  
"There were two small bodies, dressed in their clothing. Who were they?" 

Theon seemed to sink into himself. "I don't know," he mumbled. "A farmer's boys? I found them playing in the fields. I didn't know them." 

Sansa felt her temper rise. She was grateful, gods forgive her, that she had hope that her brothers may be alive. That did not mitigate the murder of two other small boys. Theon would have killed Bran and Rickon had they not been clever. 

Theon flinched and cowered as she suddenly stood and pushed her chair back.  
"Your fate will be decided at my next council meeting with the Nothern Lords. I cannot be fair or impartial about this, Theon. We loved you. And you would have killed us all. I no longer care why you did this. I no longer care about you. The only reason I don't drag you outside right now and cleave your head from your neck myself is because you helped my dear Jeyne. One way or another, and I care not how, I want you gone from my home, Theon. Do you understand me?" 

Theon nodded and sniffed. 

With that, Sansa swept from the room, shaking with anger. 

Her head was beginning to pound from the stress of conversing with men she had no good will toward.  
She glided through the hallways as quickly as possible, avoiding eye contact with anyone.  
A quiet cup of tea and a rare afternoon nap sounded decadent and she hoped it would relieve her headache. 

As she pushed open the door to her chambers, Ghost sprang through the door connecting to her solar.  
"Hello sweet boy," Sansa giggled as Ghost bounced around her like a puppy. 

"Sansa, do you have time to talk?" Jon asked, sheepishly peeking around the corner.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff and yucky kissing stuff.  
> I'm not even sorry.

"So you do know the way to my solar. I was beginning to think you had forgotten," Sansa said with a wry smile. 

Jon did not smile back. He began rubbing the back of his neck as he stared at the floor.  
Oh dear, she thought.  
"Jon, I'm only teasing. Please sit. I'll join you in a moment after I send for tea." 

Sansa ducked into the hall to ask a passing servant to bring tea and food and ale. Jon certainly looked as though he might want ale. 

When she entered her solar Jon was pacing.  
She calmly stepped around him and sat in her favorite chair. 

Sometimes he stopped for a moment to look at her before resuming his pacing. 

She finally picked up her knitting project (socks for Davos) and decided to simply wait him out. 

Finally, a maid arrived with their food and drinks. No sooner than the door closed behind the maid than Jon sat down and poured himself an ale. 

"Jon," she said gently. "Just begin. Tell me what you're thinking."

Jon sighed and asked her "What am I to you?" 

"Even if what Howland Reed said is true, we are family. Nothing has to change, I promise," she said soothingly as she reached across the table to rest her hand on his arm. 

Jon took hold of her hand and leveled a serious look at her. "But what if I want it to change," he asked in a low voice. 

Sansa's first reaction was to feel hurt. She knew Jon never considered her a sister as he did with Arya when they were growing up. And that was largely her fault.  
But the time had spent together now, as adults, had been wonderful. At least it had been wonderful in her opinion.  
He had become the most important person in her life. And though she had noticed how handsome he was and how warm she felt when he touched her, she could tuck that into her heart and bury it there forever if it meant he would stay with her. 

"Oh," she said, looking down at the table.  
She tried not to cry. She really did. A tear slipped down her cheek anyway. 

"No, no. Oh sweet girl, that's not what I meant. Gods I knew I'd make a mess of this," he said sighing. "I meant that I have never felt about you the same way I felt about Arya."

Sansa expelled a breath as she nodded. There it was. He was leaving her. Of course he was. She knew she must be brave now. Let him go with grace. Even if her heart was breaking. 

"Of course, I understand," she said faintly. She had to get out of that room. She would not fall apart in front of him. He had enough to deal with. 

Jon searched her face and reached out to grab her hand.  
"Sansa, no. I don't feel the same way about you as I do about Arya because she's my sister but I have fallen in love with you."  
She raised her eyes to his.  
"Oh," she said as she bit her bottom lip to stop a smile from blooming. 

"Sansa, I knew my...thoughts... about you were wrong. I thought my feelings about you were proof of my bastard blood. It's part of the reason I wanted to go to the Wall. "

Sansa gasped. "Jon..." she whispered, clutching his hand. 

"I did forget about you for a while. I thought I would never see you again. So I loved Ygritte as best I could. At first I wanted her because she seemed so different from you. But now I see so many more similarities "  
Jon pushed away from the table and began his pacing again. 

"After I came back from the dead, I decided to come fight for Stannis because I honestly didn't care if I lived or died again." 

He knelt in front of her.  
"But then you were there. Standing in that field of flowers, as bright and beautiful as the sun. I thought I was dreaming. But you're here. And the more I'm around you the more I see how easy you are to love. And now I find out you are my cousin? Sansa, we could really be together. Without shame. Without hiding." 

He reached out his hand to cup her cheek.   
" I don't expect you to return my feelings. I will respect your wishes no matter what. And I will never touch you again if you tell me not to...but if there is a chance that you could feel the same as I do..."  
"I do, Jon. I feel the same way," she interrupted him in a soft voice.

Jon closed his eyes and exhaled a long breath of relief. When he looked at her, his smile was beautiful to see. 

"May I kiss you, Sansa?" 

"Yes, you may. But gently and quickly. I was a bit frightened by our kiss in the crypt," 

"Of course! I didn't mean to frighten you. I am so sorry, Sansa." 

"Jon, it's alright. I know you didn't mean to frighten me. But for now. when we kiss, I want to be able to tap your shoulder twice when I need to step back."

"Perfect, shall we practice?" 

Sansa laughed and nodded. 

They stood and faced one another. They were nearly the same height which made it nice, Sansa thought.  
Jon leaned forward and kissed her, keeping his hands firmly by his sides.

This kiss was sweet and soft.  
It was exactly how she always dreamed of being kissed.  
She felt giddy and warm.  
Her lips tingled and she felt her stomach flutter. 

Jon broke the kiss and backed away first, smiling sweetly at her. 

But Sansa suddenly frowned as the reality of the situation dawned on her. 

"Jon, if we make it known we are cousins and you are the son of Rhaegar Targaryen, you will be in danger!"

Jon cocked an eyebrow. "I have already thought of that," he said proudly. 

Sansa grinned. "Do tell." 

"I have no interest in the Iron Throne. I want to stay in the North. With you. And Arya, Bran and Rickon someday.  
I have asked my brother from the Watch, Sam Tarly to research the records at the Citadel for any proof my parents married. And hopefully, once we have proof, I will go to Stannis. I intend to renounce my claim and swear myself into his service as long as I can remain in the North, with you." 

Sansa felt overwhelmed by the possibility that this could work.

"Are you sure this is what you want? I want you to stay here with me. I do! But I want you to be sure."

"I am sure," he said firmly as he took her hand in his. "Sansa, the threat from beyond the Wall is real. I am far more interested in protecting you and our people than I am in sitting on an iron chair listening to lords kiss my ass all day."  
She laughed.  
He placed his hands on the sides of her face and looked into her eyes as he said "Stannis actually listened to my ideas on reforming the Nights Watch when He was at Castle Black. He understands the dangers we are facing from the dead beyond the Wall. He knows how important it is to have good men defending the the Wall. I believe he will put me to good use, here in the North. I truly do. I will be here, by your side. There is no where else I'd rather be." 

Sansa closed her eyes and blew out a breath of relief.  
"Jon?"  
"Yes, sweet girl."  
"Can we kiss again?"  
"Yes, sweet girl."


	14. Chapter 14

"Tywin Lannister is dead," Stannis announced to the lords gathered in Winterfell's great hall.

"His son Tyrion shot him with a crossbow as he sat in his privy. It is unclear how Tyrion escaped the Black Cells but he has fled Kings Landing and is on the run." 

The room sat in stunned silence until Tormund asked "What's a privy?"   
Jon leaned over to whisper the answer.  
Tormund considered this for a moment before blurting "What a shitty way to die."   
Val snickered. 

Sansa felt a terrible giggle bubble up inside her throat.  
And sudden bursts of suspicious sounding coughs from around the room told her she was not alone. 

There was no love for Tywin or any of the Lannisters in the North. She was not sorry he was dead.  
But Sansa still admonished herself and bowed her head in respect for Tommen and Marcella who had always been kind to her in Kings Landing. 

She felt strangely relieved that Tyrion managed to escape.  
She had no true animosity toward her husband. She never believed he had poisoned Joffrey.  
She wouldn't pretend that she not felt very pragmatic about becoming Tyrion's widow once she learned Oberyn Martell had been defeated in combat while championing for Tyrion.  
But now she found herself hoping Tyrion truly had managed to escape to safety. 

She roused herself out of her thoughts to see Stannis glaring at Tormund.

Everyone in the room straightened and subdued themselves as Stannis swept his eyes over the room with that glare.  
"The Lannisters are vunerable without Tywin. We need to strike now. We march in three days. Members of the council, please remain. The rest of you should go attend to your men." 

It had been a month since Howland Reed's confession had altered the course of Jon and Sansa's lives.  
Even in the midst of the current chaos at Winterfell with thousands of soliders camped outside and dozens of lords roaming the halls, Sansa was happy. 

After she spoke at length with Yohn Royce, Littlefinger had been suddenly kept very busy with all manner of urgent business from the Eyrie.  
Lord Royce also began putting plans in place to protect her cousin Robin.  
The nurse Littlefinger had employed to care for Robin after her Aunt Lysa's death had suddenly left the Eyrie without a word (as far as Littlefinger knew.)  
A new nurse had been hired by Lady Anya Waynwood.  
The new nurse was under orders to never leave Robin alone and to report daily on his health to Lady Waynwood. 

With the change in care Robin began to gain weight and was having far fewer outbursts. 

Sansa was concerned by what might happen once Littlefinger realized he was under suspicion but, for now, she was relieved her cousin was being protected. 

And with Littlefinger distracted, Sansa was able sneak into the crypts to say a tearful goodbye to Jeyne before her newly adopted colony of Free Folk left to settle in The Gift. 

The was no such goodbye for Theon. The Nothern council had sentenced Theon to spend the remainder of his life serving the Night's Watch.  
His sister Yara was not pleased but the decision to spare Theon's life had tempered the threat of war from the Iron Islands. 

Jon spent his days in the training yard while Sansa attended to the daily business of running Winterfell and hosting thousands of guests on the grounds. 

Sansa and Jon spent their evenings together in her solar.  
Sometimes Princess Shireen and Davos joined them.  
Sometimes Tormund and Val joined them.  
Ghost often napped in front of the fire but on clear, cloudless nights Ghost preferred to roam in the woods.   
Those were the nights they spent kissing by the fire.  
Much to Jon's amusement and frustration, Sansa insisted that Ghost be out roaming or deeply asleep before she would consent to kisses. 

She had begun to relax. Even with all the soldiers and dignitaries in the keep, Sansa felt safe again. 

And now the news of Tywin Lannister's death and the orders to march had broken through the sense of security Sansa had begun to enjoy.

Once again she would be asking men to fight in her name and she would asking their families to be strong. 

As much as she may want to simply manage her keep and enjoy being a young woman in love, she could not. 

As men shuffled out of the great hall and members of his council arranged themselves closer to him, Stannis stood on the dias looking even more stern than usual. 

"Lady Stark," Stannis began. "The Blackfish has been successful in holding Riverrun from the king's army.  
We will march to assist him."  
But first," Stannis grimaced, "we have to get through the Freys at The Twins." 

The room exploded into thunderous yelling and curses at the mention of House Frey. 

Eventually Stannis held his hands up to signal for quiet before he continued.  
"We have an advantage at The Twins, if we act quickly. At least a third of the Frey army is occupied being a nuisance to the Lannister army. We need to strike while their numbers are down and Old Walder has his eyes cast toward Riverrun." 

After laying out his plan of attack, Stannis dismissed the council members.  
As Sansa and Jon exited the room, Maester Wolkan handed Jon a letter. 

"It's from Sam," Jon said quietly, running his finger over the wax seal.  
"Let's go to my solar," Sansa whispered back.  
They walked quickly through the castle. Jon clutched the letter as if he were afraid a bandit was waiting around every corner to rip it out of his hands. 

Sansa's heart was fluttering madly. If Sam Tarly had found proof of Lyanna's marriage to Rhaegar Targaryen, their lives were about to change again. 

The second they entered her solar, Jon began pulling at the wax seal.  
Sansa stood breathless, watching Jon's face as he scanned the letter. 

His lips began to tremble and his hands were shaking as he handed the letter to her. 

Sansa kept her eyes on Jon for a moment as he settled into his favorite chair.  
Once she was sure he was alright, she began to read. 

Sam had found proof. Well, his wife Gilly was the one who found the record of the marriage between Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Lady Lyanna Stark.  
The marriage was noted on a single line within a very mundane ledger of marriage records.  
The Maester who recorded the marriage in his own hand was known to be above reproach, Sam wrote.  
This Maester also noted the wedding in his personal diary with a paragraph discussing the family lineages of the bride and groom. 

Sam, Gilly and their son, Little Sam, were already traveling to Winterfell with the marriage ledger, the Maester's diary and a letter from the Arch Maester verifying the authenticity of the ledger. 

Sansa raised her eyes to Jon as she finished reading. 

He was watching her, tears shining in his eyes. "I'm not a bastard, Sansa. I'm not a bastard." His voice broke as he choked back a sob. 

Sansa felt her own tears begin to fall as she crossed the room to his chair and enveloped him in her arms. 

Jon buried his head against her belly and clutched at her back as she stroked her hands through his curls. 

"Jon," she began hesitantly. "If this changes anything for you, it's alright. I will love you no matter what."

"No," he said, sniffing as he looked up at her. "This changes nothing between us. This changes none of my plans. Do you believe me?" 

Sansa moved to kneel beside his chair. "I do. I believe you. But I love you too much to ask you to stay here with me if...."

"You can't get rid of me that easily," he interrupted with a chuckle. "Ghost would never let me forget what a fool I was if I walked away from you." 

Sansa kissed him quickly as she stood up. "Well, Ghost would be right." 

Jon held out his hand to her and then pulled her into his lap. 

"Jon, when should we speak to Stannis? He leaves in a few days."

"I'll ask him for a word in private tomorrow morning," he began to grin. "And I hope to be able to hold your hand on our walk tomorrow evening." 

Sansa grinned back at him. 

She hopes it will be that easy but somehow she doesn't quite believe it.


	15. Chapter 15

The next morning when Sansa left her chambers Jon was standing outside her door with a broad smile on his face. 

He bowed to her with a flourish and offered his arm to escort her to breakfast. 

Sansa was relieved that he seemed to be in good spirits.  
She was not. It had been a long, sleepless night as she tried to imagine every possible outcome of the meeting with Stannis. (Some more bloody than others.)

As they entered the great hall, Princess Shireen waved them over to the bench where she sat with Davos.  
After exchanging good mornings, Davos let them know Stannis could meet with them as soon as they finished their meals. 

Jon grabbed a two pieces of bread from the table and said "We are ready now."  
As they followed Davos to her father's solar Sansa swatted Jon's shoulder in exasperation.  
She was actually hungry. And she had planned to review their talking points over breakfast. Finalize their arguments. Perhaps discuss escape routes if they had to make a run for it. Or even simply take a moment to breathe. 

Jon shrugged sheepishly as he shoved a bit of bread in his mouth. 

Well, that settled it, she thought. If Stannis didn't throttle him, she would. 

Davos announced them and they entered the solar. It was unchanged from when her father had last used it. Sansa recalled that her father had always respected Stannis for his fairness. That brought her comfort. Jon's parentage was not something he could control. Surely a fair man would see that. 

Sansa curtsied and Jon bowed to Stannis before they all settled into their seats. 

Stannis quirked a brow at them. "And how may I help the Warden of the North and the former Lord Commander of the Nights Watch?"

"Your Grace, Jon and I have recently received some information that you should know," Sansa said hesitantly. 

Stannis leaned back in his chair and waved his hand for her to continue. 

She looked over at Jon and gave him a nod of encouragement. 

Jon expelled a breath and said "Your Grace, there's no easy way to say it so I will get to the point. We have recently learned that I am not Ned Stark's bastard," he glanced at Sansa before continuing. "I am the trueborn son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen. Ned Stark rescued me and brought me to Winterfell to raise as his son to protect my true identity from King Robert or any other enemies of House Targaryen."

Sansa had been watching Stannis closely. His expression did not change.  
Stannis merely steeped his fingers under his chin and kept his eyes fixed on Jon. 

Several agonizing minutes of silence passed.  
Sansa began to feel panic creep up her spine.  
She sent a pleading look to Davos who responded with an uncertain shrug. 

She felt a drop of sweat roll down her side as her hands involuntarily twitched in her lap from the urge to gather her skirts and run out the door. 

As if he could read her mind, Jon reached over and rested his hand over hers as he leaned forward in his chair and asked "Your Grace?" 

Stannis suddenly stood up. "And what proof do you have?" 

Sansa tried to keep her voice steady as she said "Howland Reed was a first-hand witness to the events at the Tower of Joy. He went with my father to rescue Lyanna. When they arrived she had just given birth to Jon. It was a difficult birth but before she died she told them Jon was Rhaegar's son. I believe Lord Reed would be willing to testify if called upon." 

Jon shifted in his seat. "Samwell Tarly, my brother from the Nights Watch, is traveling here to bring a ledger and a diary from the Citadel that contain notes on the marriage. The Arch Maester has reviewed them and offered his support of both accounts."

"And the Lady Melissandre believed Jon has the blood of a king," Sansa reminded them. Her voice going quiet at the end as she feared that perhaps she should not have mentioned it. 

Stannis swung his intense gaze to her at the mention of the red woman. 

If Stannis mourned the red woman he did so in private.  
Sansa suspected they had been lovers.  
Melissandre obviously had great influence over Stannis. She must have if she was able to convince Stannis to abandon the faith of the Seven and follow the red god R'hllor.  
Sansa was counting on Stannis being a believer in Melissandre's visions as well. 

"What do you intend to do?" Stannis asked Jon. 

"Renounce my claim to the throne. I want to stay in the North and help to reform the Nights Watch. We need to prepare for the threat beyond the Wall,"  
Jon glanced at Sansa and held out his hand. She entwined her fingers with his.  
" I want to search for my lost cousins. I want to be free to marry whom I choose of my own free will and not because it would benefit the realm. I want to raise my children in Winterfell.  
I want to figure out who I am outside of who sired me. I already lost my life in the name of duty. And now I want to live."

Stannis stared at their joined hands and gave them each a searching look. 

"Stand up, Jon Snow," Stannis said sternly. 

Jon rose from his chair, reluctantly letting go of Sansa's hand. 

"Kneel before me. Lay your sword at my feet and renounce your claim to the throne in front of these witnesses. Pledge yourself to my service. Promise to answer my call and fight by my side. To bring honor to my name, now and always. Can you do that without hesitation?" 

Jon carefully unsheathed his sword. Then he knelt down to lay his sword at Stannis' feet. 

"I pledge myself to your service, I promise to answer your call and fight by your side. I will bring honor to your name, now and always. Your Grace," Jon said and then bowed his head. 

Sansa held her breath. She took comfort in the fact that Davos had visibly relaxed. 

"Rise Jon Snow. We will have a Maester draw up an official proclamation stating who you are and that you have renounced your claim. And you will sign it, am I clear? Do not give me cause to regret this."   
Stannis offered Jon his arm.   
The two men clasped each other's arm as Jon stood up. 

"Thank you, your grace," Jon smiled at Stannis before turning to Sansa. 

Sansa felt the tension drain from her body. She left her chair and sunk into a shaky curtsy to offer her thanks to Stannis as well. 

Stannis merely grunted and waved them out of the solar. 

Sansa and Jon wisely fled the room, hand in hand.


	16. Chapter 16

Jon became an affectionate menace once the gossipy assistant to Maester Wolkan spread news of Jon's true parentage around the castle. 

There were hearts made of berries on top of her porridge and flowers left on the desk in her solar.  
He had even gotten a black eye from stopping to watch her walk by while sparring with one of her beloved Manderly men in the training yard. 

Sansa would have never believed the solemn little boy she knew would grow up to be such a romantic.  
It never ceased to amuse and surprise her. 

She was not much better, though she was more subtle. She made Jon new shirts as they sat in her solar in the evenings and she was secretly steeping rosemary in oil for his bath.  
She did stop pretending to have business near the training yard after the black eye incident. But luckily she found a comfortable hiding spot inside the castle to watch Jon from the window for a few minutes in the afternoons. 

It wasn't all hearts and flowers though. At first many of the Northern Lords cast hard, suspicious looks, grumbles and glares toward Jon in the great hall.  
The first night after the meeting with Stannis, Sansa was so occupied with staring down those men during dinner that she hardly ate. 

Stannis made an effort to greet Jon in the great hall during the few days before the army left for the Twins and that helped relieve some of the tension. 

The night before the army would begin their march out of Winterfell, the cooks managed to pull together a small feast for the men.  
A few traveling musicians were hired play in the great hall and before the night was over nearly every woman in the castle was giddy and breathless from a non stop array of dancing partners. 

Jon was temporarily staying behind in Winterfell for meetings with Sam Tarly and Edd Tollett, the acting Lord Commander of the Nights Watch. 

The day of departure for the army started before the sun had properly risen.  
And Sansa, after standing most of the day, either in the courtyard or by the gates to see Stannis and the army off, was now exhausted. 

She decided to have food brought to her chambers, have a bath and retire early that evening.  
Ghost kept her company until the water for her bath was brought in. (Ghost was not fond of baths.) 

Sansa fell into a deep sleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.  
Which made it difficult for Jon and her maid to rouse her a few hours later. 

She cracked a bleary eye at Jon over her maid's shoulder. 

"There are riders at the gate," Jon said, tension rolling off of his body in waves. "And there are two direwolves with them."

Sansa scrambled out of bed, fully awake. She grabbed her robe from her squawking maid and took off barefoot, trying to keep up with Jon. 

The castle walls rushed by her in a blur as she ran to the courtyard.  
As soon as she stumbled into the courtyard she began yelling "Open the gates!" 

It seemed a thousand years passed in the moment it took for the guards to pull the gates apart.

Five riders entered the courtyard but it was difficult to clearly see them in the torch light. There were two large figures leading the group. 

Ghost suddenly flattened his ears and growled, startling both Jon and Sansa.  
Deep snarls came out of the darkness in response.  
They watched helplessly as Ghost and the other two wolves flew at each other. Sansa yelped and Jon drew his sword. 

As soon as the wolves collided, the snarls turned to playful yips as the wolves tumbled over each other in a wiggling mass of fur and wagging tails. 

Sansa looked at the riders as they began to dismount their horses.  
A small figure stepped between the large lead riders.  
"Sansa?" a feminine voice asked. 

Despite the years apart, Sansa knew that voice as well as her own.  
"Arya!"  
The two women ran into each other's arms.  
Sansa began to openly sob as she repeatedly kissed the top of Arya's head. Arya buried her face into Sansa's shoulder and tightened her arms around Sansa's back.  
All too quickly, Arya loosened her grip and lifted her face to look at Sansa. "Rickon is here."  
Sansa gasped and looked to the other riders.  
Arya gave a watery chuckle and admonished her "Don't frighten him! He barely remembers us. Be patient."

Jon was no longer able to stand it and threw open his arms. "Arya..." was all he managed to say before she released Sansa and flew into his arms.  
Feeling her brothers embrace was what finally tore an audible sob from Arya.  
Jon lifted her in the air and spun her around. She clutched at his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his hips just as she had done as a child. 

Sansa wiped at her tears as she fully turned to the other riders.  
She immediately recognised the Hound and Osha.  
A tall blonde woman in armor nodded to her. (Brienne of Tarth she presumed.)  
And she saw a lanky young man with curly auburn hair watching her from behind Osha's shoulder. 

As the young man stepped forward, Sansa forced herself to stand still.  
She could not stop her tears though. 

He stood a few feet away from her as his eyes searched her face.  
"Sansy?" He asked softly.  
"Yes, Rickon. It's Sansy," she replied half laughing, half-crying.  
His face crumpled and he reached for her. 

She gently pulled him into a loose embrace and told him "Rickon, this is your home. You are welcome here and you are safe here. When you are ready, I would like to know...everything about your life. But only when you are ready." She raised her hand to brush tears from his cheek as she smilied at Rickon tenderly. 

Rickon looked around the courtyard with wide eyes and a soft smile before walking toward the wolves. 

Sansa looked at the Hound. "I am happy to see you, Ser Clegane." 

"Not a Ser. I'm happy to see you too, Little Bird. I come baring a gift all the way from White Harbor. Compliments of Wyman Manderly," he said as he slung a sack from over his shoulder onto the ground at her feet.  
As a grunt escaped the sack, Sansa warily stepped back, her eyes shifting from the sack to the Hound. 

The sack wiggled for a moment and then small hands pushed through the opening.  
Tyrion Lannister poked out his head and winced at the torchlight shinning in his eyes.  
"Hello little wife." 


	17. Chapter 17

Sansa sat across the table from her erstwhile husband trying to control her temper as he incessantly drummed his fingers on the table. 

Jon sat beside Sansa, arms crossed, glaring at Tyrion.  
  
Tyrion finally broke the silence by asking "Wife, is there any wine?' 

Sansa merely arched a brow at him in response.  
And Jon growled. 

Tyrion turned to Jon. "Ah. The Lord Commander of the Nights Watch and the Bastard of Winterfell. How fares the Wall? Have your balls frozen off yet?" 

Jon shoved his chair backward and stood up. 

Sansa reached out and touched Jon's arm to stop him from rounding the table and throttling Tyrion. 

This was not how she envisioned spending her first morning of peace and quiet since Stannis left. 

Last night had been the happiest night she could remember. After having Tyrion taken by guards to the cells she asked her chamber maid to rouse more of the staff to make up rooms and draw baths for everyone.  
Over a hastily prepared meal Arya and the Hound took turns telling Jon and Sansa how they became companions. The Hound had Sansa wiping tears of laughter from her eyes as he described Brienne beating him "bloody." Brienne simply blushed and smiled into her ale. 

Osha told them plainly in her rough voice that being "a Wildlin' woman" had its advantages on Skagos. They were able to spend several months living off the land and sleeping in caves. Eventually they were discovered and accepted by a somewhat friendly mountain clan. They remained with the clan until the very day Arya showed up.

They learned that Tyrion was released from the Black Cells the night before his execution by his brother Jaime. Passage abroad a merchant ship to Essos had been arranged by the Master of Whisperers, Lord Varys. 

In an unfortunate stroke of luck the ship was raided by pirates a mere three days into its voyage.  
When Tyrion was discovered on board, he was taken to White Harbor and promptly traded to highest bidder. Wyman Manderly collected his prize for 1000 gold dragons. 

After a brief stay with Lord Manderly, the group set out on horseback through The Neck. 

One night, during a full moon, Shaggy Dog had suddenly run from their campsite without a backward glance. Rickon was distraught as he and Osha searched endlessly for the wolf.  
On the third day, Shaggydog trotted back to their camp with Nymeria in tow.  
Nymeria seemed hesitant to interact with the humans until one morning Arya woke, short of breath from the heavy weight of a sleeping Nymeria's head upon her chest.

Rickon and Arya began to yawn at that point so Sansa ushered everyone upstairs to to their rooms.  
Arya and Rickon settled into their old chambers.  
The Hound and Brienne were given guest rooms.  
As Osha had turned to walk toward the servants quarters, Sansa gently redirected her to a guest room as well. 

Fresh linens were on the beds, hot baths had been drawn, and soft pallets had been placed on the floor for Shaggydog and Nymeria in their respective master's rooms. 

Since her maids had worked hard and quickly to accomodate Sansa's requests, she told them to take the day to rest.  
Everything had barely settled down when the first light of dawn began to break across the sky.  
Sansa longed for her bed but here she sat with Tyrion Lannister of all people. 

Sansa sighed. "Believe it or not, I don't want you killed, Tyrion. However, at the moment, that seems an inevitable conclusion.  
You are not helping your cause by antagonizing us. And you would be wise not to antagonize Stannis if you want to keep your head on your shoulders," Sansa said sharply. 

Tyrion looked away from her and furrowed his brow. 

"Tyrion, you are clever. Think your way through this.... predicament. This is not the time for pride and blustering," Sansa said in a pleading tone. 

Tyrion bowed his head and looked at her mournfully. "I fear I don't deserve your concern," Tyrion said quietly. He swallowed and whispered " I killed Shae." 

Sansa drew in a sharp breath and pushed away from the table. She stood up and put her back to Tyrion as she felt tears spring into her eyes. Not Shae. Her protector. The closest thing she had to a friend in Kings Landing. The woman who helped her escape. 

She knew Shae had been Tyrion's lover. Sansa was grateful to Shae for that too. 

"Why?" Sansa choked out. 

Tyrion's brushed his own tears away. "She said you and I colluded to poison Joffrey. She said...many terrible things at my trial. And when I found her in my father's bed the night I left....I strangled her with a necklace I had given her as a token of my love." 

Sansa struggled to regain her composure.  
It hurt to imagine Shae implicating her in Joffrey's murder. Shae knew she had fled before the wedding. Sadly, Sansa was also was aware as a highborn lady she had advantages Shae did not. In similar circumstances Sansa would, no doubt, have been treated differently than Shae likely was.  
Sansa had no idea what had lead Shae to take up with Tywin Lannister but mostly what she felt for Shae in this moment was pity.

Sansa turned back to look at Tyrion. "You will stay here. You will keep your mouth shut. Do you understand me?" she snapped. 

"Yes, I do. Thank you, my lady," Tyrion said quietly. 

Sansa struggled to order her thoughts for a moment. "I will have some books, parchment and a quill brought to you. Begin writing a proposal for successfully taking the city and defeating the kings army based on your knowledge of Kings Landing. It will be carefully scrutinized. Do well and you just may keep your head." 

Tyrion nodded quickly. "Thank you my lady," he said softly. 

"Go to sleep now Tyrion. We will talk more later," she said as she took Jon's arm and they filed out of the room. 

To the guards at the door she instructed "Do not talk to him. Do not let anyone in. And for the love of the Seven and the old gods do not tell anyone he is here." 

As they walked out of the tower, she glanced at Jon. His jaw was flexing.  
She stopped and faced him, laying her hand on his shoulder.  
"I'm honestly not sure what to do with him," she admitted. 

"Throw him off the roof and enjoy your widowhood?" Jon suggested.."Or put him back in his little sack and send him off to Stannis...and enjoy your widowhood?" 

Sansa smirked. "Both are viable options," said archly. 

Jon hummed in response. 

"I don't believe he poisoned Joffrey. And as for why he killed Tywin, the reason could have been one of a thousand. Tywin was cruel to Tyrion his entire life."  
Sansa rubbed her forehead to ease the headache forming behind her eyes.  
"Shae was my handmaiden and she was Tyrion's lover." 

Jon drew in a harsh breath through his nose and anger flashed in his eyes. He turned his body to stalk toward the cells.  
Sansa grabbed his shoulder.  
"Jon! No, I was glad of it. I did not want Tyrion but I did not begrudge him...comfort...elsewhere. I was grateful he had someone to be honest. Tyrion was as much a victim of our marriage as I was. He never hurt me. He never touched me. Sadly, it was the best I could hope for."

Jon shook his head. His eyes were still angry and his jaw clenched.  
But he stroked her arms gently and pulled her into an embrace. 

Sansa laid her head on Jon's shoulder. "Shae helped me escape King's Landing," Sansa took a shaky breath before she continued. "Tyrion took her life as well as Tywin's. No matter the sins they committed, they deserve justice. Tyrion must face punishment. I know that. But could he be of use, Jon? If not just to provoke Cersei into acting recklessly, he also knows Kings Landing inside and out. He certainly knew where to find wildfire. That should interest Stannis." She lifted her head and looked into Jon's eyes.

"Are you trying to convince me of his usefulness or yourself?" Jon asked. 

She sighed. "I'm honestly not sure."


	18. Chapter 18

Sansa woke to a pair of bright red eyes staring into hers. As she moved her head away in anticipation of what could happen, a long rough tongue wiped her face chin to forehead.  
"Ghost, please," she groaned. "We've discussed this at length," she said rolling over to her other side only to be licked again by Nymeria. Sansa giggled in spite of herself. "Hello darling! How did you get in here Nymeria!?" 

"She came in with me," Arya said as she climbed onto Sansa's bed. 

Sansa arched a brow at her sister. "And how did you get in here?" 

"She came in with me," Jon said, grinning as he brought in a bedtray laden with food. "I thought you might enjoy breakfast in bed," Jon said as she sat up and arranged her pillows behind her back. 

"And I thought I would enjoy helping you eat breakfast in bed," Arya said, swping three pieces of bacon off the tray, taking one for herself and delighting Ghost and Nymeria with the other two.  
Jon grumbled in response and swatted Arya good naturedly with the napkin he was about to lay across Sansa's lap. 

Sansa could not help the tears that sprang in her eyes. She didn't think she'd ever ever see her family again a few months ago much less enjoy a very late breakfast with them in her own bed, 

Arya caught her watery gaze and sighed before grabbing a sweet roll from the tray and flopping on her back beside Sansa.  
Jon merely smiled at her fondly. 

"I can't help it," Sansa said chuckling and sniffling at the same time.  
"And where is Rickon?" she asked hopefully. 

"I'm here, Sansy," Rickon said softly while carrying a second tray filled with food, Shaggydog following close behind. 

Sansa laughed. "My goodness! I'm not that hungry!" 

"My memories may be fuzzy but even I remember how much Arya eats," Rickon said in a deadpan voice. 

"Oi!" Arya raised up enough to throw the rest of her sweet roll at Rickon then flopped back down. 

An hour later, after much laughter, the food was gone, all four humans were lazily draped across Sansa's bed and the wolves were fast asleep by the fire place. 

Sansa wished she could have a portrait painted of this moment in time. She wanted to live in this moment for just a little while. No war, no death marching on the Wall, no enemies in her home. 

With that thought, Sansa gently moved Rickon's arm off her waist and sat up.  
Her motion stirred the rest of them to begin sitting up as well.  
Sansa sighed.  
"I'm afraid I must leave our lovely cocoon. There is much to do," she said reluctantly. 

Without opening her eyes, Arya stuck out a hand and made to push Sansa back down.  
Sansa laughed as she grabbed the little hand and kissed it soundly. 

"Stay and rest. You have earned it. I must go, I'm afraid. I'll see you at dinner."  
She slipped from the bed, placed a kiss on each of their foreheads, including the wolves, and went behind her dressing screen to change. 

Now that Arya was here, Littlefinger's jig was effectively up.  
She felt she needed to confront him before word of Arya's presence was common knowledge around the castle.  
And though it may be too late already, she did not regret her lazy family breakfast but she did need to act fast. 

Littlefinger had stayed behind in Winterfell finishing some of the urgent business Yohn Royce had concocted to keep him occupied.  
Sansa stood in front of the room Littlefinger was using as his solar and took a few calming breaths. 

She was about to knock when a gruff voice behind her said "Why do you want to talk to Littlecunt?" 

Sansa turned to see the Hound standing behind her looking annoyed. 

Doing a quick (and admittedly haphazard calculation) Sansa blurted "I need to confront him for selling my friend Jeyne to the Boltons as a substitute for Arya... and for maybe killing my Aunt and having her son poisoned. And for likely being involved in my father's arrest in the capitol." 

"You want me to kill 'em?" 

"No! Not yet," Sansa said and then began chewing her bottom lip anxiously. 

"Sandor?" 

His eyes shot to hers in surprise. 

"Would you come in with me? To speak to him?" she asked him hesitantly. 

The Hound did not answer her as he brushed past her and banged on the door hard enough to rattle it on the frame. 

Sansa yelped and jumped, hand involuntarily rising to cover her heart. 

A few seconds later, an angry Littlefinger swung open the door "What..." he started to say before being pushed into the room by the Hound.  
"We're coming in," the Hound growled, continuing to push Littlefinger until the only place he could go was back into his chair. 

"Get your hands off me, dog... oh Sansa, sweetling. What an unexpected pleasure."  
Littlefinger had gone from snarling to giving her his dead eyed smile in a split second she noted. Sansa closed the door behind her and leaned against it. 

Littlefinger glanced between her and the Hound, confused and wary. 

"My sister Arya returned to me last night," she said, watching for his reaction. 

"What a wondrous miracle. You must be.." 

"Cut the shit, Baelish. You sold a girl to that fucker Ramsey Bolton and told him it was Arya. You knew what he was. I heard you talking about those "dreadful" Boltons myself. You used that girl. I should cut you down myself," the Hound all but snarled.

Littlefinger stood up and addressed Sansa. "Sansa, you must understand. I...I meant to protect you. If you had left King's Landing with me I planned to eventually attack the Boltons with the Knights of the Vale. Brokering the marriage gave me an excuse to be there with the Boltons..."

"You're lying!" the Hound roared. "Tywin Lannister told you do whatever you had to do to help the Boltons keep control over the North. You wanted Harrenhal. You told him you'd do whatever he needed, you cunt! You suggested a marriage to one of the Stark girls. If the Little Bird had gone with you back in Kings Landing, it could have been her you sold to thst fucker Bolton and you know it." 

Again, Littlefinger looked only to Sansa. "Sansa, you must believe me. I only intended to bring you to safety. To the Eyrie, with your Aunt Lysa. And your cousin. We are family now, by marriage. Please sweetling..."

Sansa interrupted him "Did you have my father arrested? Did you pay the city guards to arrest him?" 

"Sansa...I..." 

"He had them in his pocket, Little Bird."

"Did you push my Aunt Lysa through the moon door?"

"How could you think...?"

"Have you been poisoning my cousin?"

Littlefinger's expression changed from grieved disbelief to cold fury in an instant.

"You would be wise to remember who you are accusing, my lady" he hissed. 

"And you would be wise to remember I can crush you like a bug," the Hound snarled.

Sansa held up her hands. "Jeyne Poole was here, I know it was you who took her from Kings Landing and sold her to the Boltons. I saw the scars on her body." 

Littlefinger started to move toward her but the Hound clamped a hand on his shoulder and held him in place. 

"Do you think Stannis can afford to lose the support of the Knights of the Vale right now? Think about what you're doing," Littlefinger pleaded.

"But he won't, Lord Baelish, Lord Royce has seen to that through diligently campaigning with the Lords of the Eyrie while you've been occupied with other matters. Speaking of which, I'm sure you'll be pleased to know my cousin Robin's health has improved greatly in recent weeks. High doses of the Essence of Nightshade are no longer being given to him despite your insistence. I have been advised by Lady Anya Waynwood that Robin has made great strides in learning of his duties as Warden of the East. So much so that he has appointed his own council to guide him." 

"I was only trying to help the boy rest. Surely you can't think I was trying..."

"Hmm," Sansa interrupted him, "No, I think you are too clever to get your hands dirty. Maester Coleman said Robin was given the nightshade only after he asked you why you made his mother fly." 

"I had nothing to do with Lysa's death," he growled. 

"Perhaps it was an accident." Sansa mused. "However the idea thar you may have caused the death of his mother and then kept him drugged while ruling in his name?" Sansa tutted. "You do have your supporters, Lord Baelish. But not enough of them, I'm afraid. Lord Arryn wants you returned to the Eyrie for trial. May the gods have mercy on your soul." 

Littlefinger's mouth twisted into a half-smile. "My but you have grown from the frightened little girl I met in Kings Landing." 

"If only I had grown up in time to save my father," she replied. 

The hound grabbed Littlefinger's arm and walked him out of the castle proper to the same tower where Tyrion was being held. 

Sansa walked a few paces behind them not wanting any further conversation with Littlefinger.   
As tempting as it was to have Littlefinger run through, she could not bring herself to kill him.  
She didn't want to kill anyone.  
But the words of her father haunted her.  
The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.  
She knew her father meant that literally.  
She was not prepared to swing the sword no matter how much Littlefinger may deserve it.

For now, he could sit in a cell and rot until Knights of the Vale, hand picked by Yohn Royce, escorted him back to the Eyrie to face justice.

Once Littlefinger was locked in his cell, Sansa wrapped her hand around the Hound's arm as they walked through the courtyard.  
"Sandor, thank you. I'm glad you were there."  
He grunted in reply.

As they continued their walk, Rickon and Shaggydog ran by them. Maester Wolkan scurried up to her with a letter from Princess Shireen and she heard Arya's cackle coming from the training yard. 

Sansa took a moment to tilt her head back and enjoy the warmth of the sun on her face.


	19. Chapter 19

Princess Shireen was returning to Winterfell.  
Queen Selyse had suffered an unfortunate "nervous spell" and was being sent to convelesce with her elder brother, Ser Axell Florent. 

Sansa was happy to host Princess Shireen and began making preparations to accommodate the princess and her guards. 

She smiled thinking that the princess would be delighted to learn of Sansa's romance with Jon.  
Much like Sansa, the princess enjoyed reading tales of maidens and fair princes.  
Unlike her sister Arya who preferred stories of battles and dragons. 

The family meeting with Arya and Rickon to explain Jon's parentage had gone well, at first.  
Arya tearfully swore Jon was, and always would be, her true brother. Rickon merely nodded and told Jon he felt the same as Arya. 

It wasn't until Jon took Sansa's hand and began to stumble through an explanation that it is perfectly acceptable for cousins to marry that things went awry. 

Arya's eyes grew huge and she looked between Jon and Sansa before making the noises as if she were vomiting.  
Rickon began snickering.  
Arya threw herself onto the floor and screeched "That is disgusting! You two?!"  
Jon and Sansa exchanged a worried look which quickly morphed into exasperation as Nymeria trotted over and began licking Arya's face. Giggles interrupted Arya's screeching and pretending to be sick. And that made Rickon laugh.  
Rickon's laughter caused Shaggydog to begin howling and running around the room wanting to join the fun.  
"Peace! Peace!" Jon finally yelled above the fray. 

Sansa knelt beside Arya, brushing hair out of Arya's face. "Are you alright with this? With Jon and me..." Sansa asked. 

"Jon is very disgusting. And you are very annoying. And I don't want to ever see you two kissing. But...I suppose I can live with it," Arya said softly as she reached up to touch Sansa's cheek. 

Sansa smiled and swooped to kiss her sister's forehead which started Arya's antics all over again. 

Moments of privacy had become few and far between for Sansa and Jon with Arya on the loose. They made the most of the hours they had after the rest of the castle was sleeping.  
Chaste hugs and closed mouth kisses had blossomed into passionate clinches and tongues battling for dominance. Hands roamed freely over each other and breathy sighs became moans. 

During breakfast one morning Shaggy Dog outed their game of footsie under the table by nipping Jon's ankle. Jon's resulting yelp and full body jerk caused Sansa's knee to bang against the underside of the table.  
Both of them flushed bright red at the sudden attention of nearly every one in the hall.  
Arya shook her head at them and muttered "Disgusting," before returning to her porridge. 

The next day, Sam Tarly and his family arrived at Winterfell.  
Sam was an affable fellow who blushed bright red as Sansa embraced him.  
Gilly looked around the courtyard with wide eyes as she clutched her son's hand. Gilly tried to curtsy to Sansa but Sansa pulled Gilly into an embrace before she knelt to shake little Sam's hand. 

Jon was eager to review the ledger and diary from the Citadel so Sansa offered her solar to the men while she escorted Gilly and Little Sam to see their chambers. 

Gilly seemed to be a kind hearted woman. Very plain spoken and prone to blurt her thoughts as she had them.  
Sansa found that refreshing. 

Rickon passed them in the hall and offered to show Gilly and Little Sam to a quiet area of the courtyard appropriate for Little Sam to run around.   
Sansa gratefully left her guests to Rickon and hurried to her solar to check on Jon and Sam. 

Her knock on the door was answered with a soft "Come in."

Jon sat in his usual chair with his head bowed as Sam stood behind him with a hand on Jon's shoulder. The ledger and diary lay open on the table.  
Sansa approached the table cautiously and asked if she could look at them.  
Jon nodded without looking up at her. 

There it was. The written documentation of the marriage of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen.  
A single line, scrawled in the spidery script of a dead Maester had the power to change the world.  
Sansa looked at Jon who was staring out in the direction of the window.  
"Jon, are you alright?" 

Jon gave her his familar half-smile.  
"Yes. I'm fine. I just needed to see it." 

Sansa let out a breath and thanked Sam for traveling all this way for his friend. 

Sam flushed and nodded. "Of course," he replied.  
Sam began to nervously wring his hands as he said "I wanted to tell both of you that I met your brother Brandon when I was North of the Wall." 

Sansa felt her knees goes weak as Jon leapt to his feet.  
"Sam! Why haven't you told me this before?!" Jon shouted angrily, advancing on his friend.

Sansa rushed forward to step between the men. "It doesn't matter! He's telling us now!"

Sam told them about encountering Bran, Hodor, Meera and Jojen Reed as well as Summer while seeking shelter with Gilly after rescuing her and fleeing Craster's Keep.

"It was after I killed the white walker," Sam said softly.  
"Brandon asked me not to tell you. He said his destiny lay North. The far North. And he would let nothing stop him. I promised him I wouldn't tell anyone. But Gilly...Gilly told me I had to tell you, She said it wasn't fair to keep you from hope."  
Sam hung his head as he finished his tale, braced for Jon's fury. 

Sansa looked at Jon, pleading with her eyes for Jon to be calm.  
She knew Bran well enough to know he would not be deterred. She did not blame Sam for keeping his secret. She was grateful to him for telling them.

Jon closed his eyes and gave her a curt nod. 

"Sam, I'm not angry. Thank you for telling us," Jon said as he patted Sam's shoulder. 

Sam chuckled his thanks and cast Sansa a grateful look. 

After a brief moment of silence, Sam suddenly became animated as he told Jon "I also wanted to show you the research I found at the Citadel on the white walkers. Dragonglass, Vaylarian steel and fire are only documented ways that seems kill them....or er...kill them again." 

Jon smiled as he said "Well, we certainly know where to find dragonglass." 

Sansa moved to sit down at her desk. As she opened her desk drawer for parchment she asked "What would you like the letter to Stannis to say?"


	20. Chapter 20

Three moons had passed since Jon left Winterfell to join Stannis. 

Stannis had agreed to the mining of dragonglass on Dragonstone. Arrowheads were already being shipped out by the crate. 

Jon, Sam and Edd Tollett had begun drafting a proposal to reorganize the Night's Watch.

Sam and Gilly learned they were expecting a child and Sansa was pleased they accepted her offer to stay on at Winterfell for a while.

Howland Reed was grateful to receive Sansa's letter with news of his children being seen North of the Wall.

Brienne of Tarth and the Hound spent most days in the training yard. (And the Hound spent his evenings sulking in his chambers if Brienne had bested him.) 

Rickon and Princess Shireen had become boon companions. Rickon was teaching Shireen to fish and hunt with a bow, much to the displeasure of her guards. And Shireen was helping Rickon improve his reading. 

Arya was alternately speaking to Sansa and not speaking to Sansa after learning her friend Gendry had been rescued and then sent into hiding.  
Arya often climbed into Sansa's bed early in the morning to remind her they were not speaking as she cuddled against Sansa's back. 

Sansa continued her duties to the North without fail. But she missed Jon very much.

They wrote to each other (she more often than Jon) and Sansa secretly wore one of Jon's tunics to bed sometimes. But that was a poor substitute for his presence. 

On a gloomy day as Sansa listlessly stirred her porridge, a servant rushed into her solar with a letter bearing the wax seal of House Tully.  
Sansa fumbled in her haste to rip open the letter.  
Her Uncle Edmure began the letter by thanking her for her support. 

Edmure was rescued along with his wife Roslin and their son, Harwyn from The Twins as Stannis swept through.  
  
The Frey army stood little chance against Stannis Baratheon's combined army and their own cowardice. 

Walder Frey was killed by a single arrow to the chest as he stubbornly sat at the head table in his great hall. His latest young bride had fled the castle at the first blast of the war horn.  
Old Walder Frey, husband and father to many, friend to none, died alone. 

The North men gave no quarter to any male Frey they caught fleeing the battle.  
Stannis did not approve but he also did not stop them. 

The Battle of Riverrun was far deadlier to both sides. The Lannister army was more prepared, better provisioned and more effectively lead than the Frey army (or the Bolton army if the truth be told.)

The Tully men gained fortitude from hearing their Lord had been rescued by Stannis' forces.  
The Blackfish and the Tully men reigned arrows down on the Lannister army while Stannis lead a relentless charge with his Calvary.  
After two days of brutal fighting,  
the Lannister army was trapped between the castle and a steady encirclement by the North men. They could not advance or retreat and so they surrendered. 

Edmure assured her he meant to follow her fine example and host the soldiers as long as they required to rest and recover before marching to Kings Landing 

Edmure was also pleased to tell her he met her cousin Jon and had invited him to stay inside Riverrun in the family wing. 

Sansa clapped a hand over her mouth and slumped into her chair.  
Jon was safe. Her uncles were safe. Her mother's home was safe.  
And Stannis, may the gods bless him, was victorious once again. 

Sansa hurried through the halls to find her siblings and Princess Shireen to relay the news. 

Arya decided they were speaking again and kissed Sansa soundly on the cheek. 

Sansa ordered the bells rung for an hour straight to celebrate the victory. 

After a festive dinner that night, Sansa longed for quiet. She walked with Ghost to visit the lichyard. Sansa wanted to lay fresh flowers on Lady's grave. She missed her wolf.  
Lady's siblings seem to love her as much as they loved their own masters. That soothed the ache in her heart but Sansa still missed Lady terribly. 

After sitting near Lady's grave a while, she wiped her tears and walked into the godswood. She walked around the hot spring, recalling fond memories of playing with her siblings. With the moonlight dancing between the clouds, Sansa sat beneath the heart tree with Ghost settling beside her and laying his head in her lap. 

She was not altogether comfortable with the hesrt tree but she wanted to feel close to Jon.  
She sat with her back against the ancient tree trunk and closed her eyes. 

She smiled remembering how the face of the heart tree used to frighten Bran. "Trees shouldn't have faces," he would whisper to her as they walked to the hot springs, careful not to look at the tree.  
Sansa tilted her head back and opened her eyes to see how the tree's face might look upside down.  
She gasped and scrambled to her feet upon seeing the face appeared to be gazing down at her. 

Sansa's heart pounded wildly as she backed away from the tree.  
The tree's face appeared unmoved, staring back at her with the same anguished face and red sap tears glittering in the moonlight. 

Sansa knew she should laugh at herself. Her imagination had obviously run away with her.  
She could not seem to find her humor nor could she tear her eyes away from the face in the tree. 

She felt a chill as a breeze stirred the leaves above her. 

Ghost suddenly sprang up and stared at the tree with his head cocked as if listening it to speak.

Sansa felt her heart race and she called Ghost to come.  
Ghost's ears flicked backward toward her voice but he continued staring at the tree. 

From somewhere on the grounds she heard the Shaggydog and Nymeria howling and their calls were answered in the land beyond the castle walls. 

Sansa called to Ghost again, her voice strained and reedy as fear began to overwhelm her. 

Ghost made no move to follow her.  
Sansa turned and ran.  
She ran blindly through the godswood, unable to focus on anything but the lights coming from the castle. 

As she neared the courtyard, she ran into a solid body and nearly fell on her backside.  
Brienne of Tarth grabbed Sansa's arms to stop her fall.  
"My lady! Are you alright?" Brienne asked, eyes searching the darkness behind Sansa as her hand reached for the hilt of her sword. 

"I am fine. I assure you. I believe I have given myself a fright and now I feel foolish. Please forgive me, Lady Brienne." 

Brienne peered at Sansa's flushed face and rapid breathing. "Please just call me Brienne. Where are your guards, my lady?" 

"I dismissed them. Ghost was with me. I wanted privacy to visit the gosdwood," Sansa replied faintly. 

Brienne frowned. "Would you allow me to accompany you in the future, my lady? I would feel better. If you would be so kind?" 

Sansa nodded. "Of course. Thank you, my...Brienne." 

The women smiled at each other. 

Brienne escorted Sansa to her chambers with a steady stream of questions regarding the tapestries in the great hall.  
Sansa was not fooled, but she was grateful for the distraction. 

It was a long while before Sansa fell asleep. And her dreams were filled with the heart tree, its branches bent with the weight of hundreds of crows.


	21. Chapter 21

"Come in," Sansa replied to a soft knock on her solar door. 

She had been reviewing letters from Edd Tollett. Rangers had reported seeing white walkers moving in large groups beyond the Wall.   
The white walkers seemed to have no interest in engaging with the rangers as they marched together slowly and purposefully as being directed by an unseen force.  
Edd went on to write that in addition to human walkers the rangers had seen giants, mammoths, horses, bears, shadow cats and even dire wolves with the same torn flesh and glowing blue eyes. 

Sansa felt a knot forming in her belly. Truth be told, until recently, she had always dismissed the tales of white walkers as simply a story to frighten children. 

After hearing Jon, Tormund, Gilly and Sam's harrowing tales, Sansa had begun to take the threat seriously. And she was frightened.  
If the white walkers managed to find a way past the Wall, how would her people defend themselves?  
Would dragonglass be enough? 

'"They will not have us, any of us," she whispered to herself fiercely, casting a worried eye at Ghost who was sleeping by the fire.

As Princess Shireen entered her solar, Sansa quickly forced herself to smile. 

"Good morning Princess," Sansa said as she stood, opening her arms to accept a hug from the girl. 

"Lady Sansa, may we speak openly," Shireen asked with a serious face that reminded Sansa of Stannis. 

"Of course we may. Please, sit," Sansa replied, feeling concerned and curious at Shireen's tone. 

"My mother will be returning soon from her visit with Uncle Axell," Shireen said flatly.

"That's wonderful. I am sure she has missed you..." Sansa halted her words at Shireen's baleful look. 

"I should like to stay here at Winterfell with your permission, Lady Sansa," Shireen said firmly. 

Sansa was not surprised. Queen Selyse was known for her fierce devotion to the red god rather than her devotion to her husband and child. And Shireen did seem very fond of Rickon.

"Of course I would be very happy for you to remain here. I know Rickon would love it."

Shireen blushed and looked away, obviously fighting a smile.  
Ah, Sansa thought, suppressing her own smile. 

"Please write to your father and if he is agreeable to it you are welcome here as long as you like." 

Shireen's entire face brightened as she grinned at Sansa and jumped up from her chair. 

"I'm going to write to him now! Thank you, thank you!" 

Sansa laughed as Shireen ran across the room and flung open her solar door.  
On the other side of the door stood a very surprised Maester Wolkan whose hand was raised to knock on Sansa's door. 

"A raven came, my lady." 

Maester Wolkan handed her a letter bearing the wax seal of a golden rose of Highgarden. 

Sansa was wary as she opened the letter. She glanced at the signature and was surprised to see Olenna Tyrell as the author. 

Olenna skipped all plesantries and got straight to the point.  
Queen Margaery and her brother Loras were in danger. The Faith Militant had reformed in Kings Landing. The leader of the Sparrows, a particularly zealous group, was appointed their leader after the High Septon had been caught in a brothel.  
(Sansa rolled her eyes thinking it certainly took long enough for that old degenerate to finally be caught.)  
A new reign of piety was being enforced in Kings Landing.  
Sansa didn't remember Tommen as being particularly interested in the Seven.  
She had a foreboding feeling Tommen's sudden religious fervor was induced by his mother or his new wife.  
Tywin Lannister would have never allowed any military force, other than his own, within the walls of the city.  
And for good reason. 

Loras Tyrell had been arrested by the Faith Miltant for "acts against the gods and man" and Queen Margaery had been arrested for lying on Loras' behalf. 

Sansa released a sigh. So it was Cersei behind this fiasco. How dreadful for Loras and Margaery, she thought. 

Olenna's letter continued on to say that Cersei had been arrested for committing adultry with her cousin Lancel, regicide for conspiring to poison King Robert and for committing incest with her brother Jaime. 

Sansa's jaw dropped.

Olenna and Jamie Lannister convinced Tommen to send soldiers to the Sept of Baelor to demand the release of Queen Margaery, Loras and Cersei.  
The High Sparrow refused to release them as the sins they committed were against the Seven and only the Seven could release them once true atonement had been achieved. 

Sansa snorted at that. 'Good luck getting Cersei to atone for anything ' she thought sourly.

Cersei was released to Tommen's custody to await her trial for regicide after she completed a Walk of Atonement through the streets of Kings Landing. 

May the gods forgive her, but Sansa could not stop the horrified squawk of laughter that escaped her.  
She found nothing humorous about the situation. But she did appreciate good irony.  
Sansa knew the acute pain of being stripped of her clothing and beaten in front of entire court as Cersei sat and watched dispassionately.  
Sansa had received no sympathy. No reassuring embraces. No words of comfort.  
And she had little sympathy for Cersei now. 

Olena Tyrell went on to ask Sansa to relay a message to Stannis that their mutual friend in Braavos was willing to send gold to Kings Landing to keep Stannis company if it would guarantee the safety of Margaery and Loras. 

Sansa's pulse began to race.  
Olenna Tyrell was entering the fray. Kings Landing was in chaos with the king's army being ignored and dismissed by the Faith Militant.  
Sansa believed Stannis would have no qualms crushing the Faith Militant. Stannis was now as a devout follower of the red god with no allegiance to the Seven. And now it seemed Olenna Tyrell was promising the Golden Company sellswords to fight for Stannis in return for her grandchildren's safety. 

Sansa allowed herself a few moments of gratitude and relief for having finally backed the winning horse, so to speak. 

She composed a response to Olenna and a carefully worded letter to Stannis.  
Sansa pulled the instructions for annulling her marriage out of her desk, silently thanking Clay Cerwyn's Maester for that bit of ham fisted hint throwing. 

After entrusting her letters to Maester Wolkan, she made her way to Tyrion's cell.


	22. Chapter 22

Tyrion looked quite comfortable sprawled out on his cot inside his cell.  
He did have a rather cute sounding snore. 

Most of his cell was covered in books and scrolls which pleased Sansa.  
She hoped that meant he was trying to make himself useful. 

Sansa took the cup she borrowed from the guard post and banged it on the iron bars of the cell. 

Tyrion jerked awake and looked around groggily. 

"Ah, good. You're awake. We have much to discuss," Sansa said cheerfully as she sat in the chair provided by the guard. 

Tyrion sighed but jumped from the cot and began dragging a stool over to the bars of his cell. Once he was perched on his stool, Sansa handed him the letter from Olenna. 

She watched Tyrion's face as he read the letter. Wariness, shock, anger, sadness and fear chased each other across his face as he read. 

When he finished, he looked to Sansa, stony faced. 

Sansa was unfazed.  
"Tyrion, Stannis will win. With or without the Golden Company. He will win.  
I intend to begin the annulment of our marriage today. I do not wish to be your widow. I cannot support your release but a very public annulment will show that I don't wish for your head on a pike. It is the best I can do.  
Cersei is lost. It is too late for her. If Stannis doesn't kill her, Olenna Tyrell just might. I know you want to save your brother, niece and nephew.  
Write a letter. I will have to review it as will Maester Wolkan. Encourage Jaime to save his children. Tell them to surrender and plead for mercy. Tell Jaime to offer to live in exile across the Narrow Sea with his children. Pray that Stannis accepts. That is all you can do for them now." 

Tyrion angrily looked away from her, blinking tears from his eyes. 

Sansa stood to leave him to his thoughts.

"Thank you, Sansa," Tyrion said so softly she almost didn't hear him.

She nodded once in reply. 

The following day, Tyrion gave the guards his letter for Jaime. Upon review by Sansa, Maester Wolkan and Sam Tarly there seemed to be no secret code or hidden messages.  
Sansa tasked only her most trusted riders to deliver the letter to Kings Landing. A raven would be faster, but riskier. 

Sansa went to the cells with Sam to watch Tyrion sign the documents Maester Wolkan drew up to annul her marriage. She did her best not to smile while she signed but it was difficult. 

The original document would be sent to the Citadel and public notice would be sent to King Tommen and each of the other Wardens. And Sansa would keep a duplicate for herself 

Sansa was no longer Lady Lannister.  
She never believed that she was, but it felt very liberating to make it official. 

And Sansa needed more victories. The politics she thought she had escaped were still swirling around her.

Stannis sent a terse reply in regards to Olenna's offer. He would fight with the men he had and had no interest in being beholden to House Tyrell.

Sansa figured as much but was happy he was at least agreeable to Princess Shireen staying on at Winterfell for now. 

As weeks dragged on, Sansa missed Jon more and more. He was able to write a bit more often. And he sent her a small drawing of himself one of the men in camp had made.  
Sansa was not embarrassed to press a kiss to the drawing each night before she blew out the candles. 

She never found her nerve to visit the godswood during the evening again.  
If she ventured there during the day, she kept her back to the heart tree. 

At breakfast one morning, Arya was assurring her that her mind was simply playing tricks on her that fateful night in the godswood.  
Rickon shrugged as he reached for the honey "I dunno. The tree talks to me sometimes," he said around a mouth full of bread. 

Sansa and Arya exchanged a worried look.  
"And what does it say to you ?" Sansa asked lightly, hoping Rickon was having a jape.   
"He mostly talks about the magic protecting the wall and the Children of the Forrest," Rickon said matter of factly. 

Sansa sat still, forcing herself not to run from the table.  
Arya simply looked fascinated.  
"It's a he?" Arya asked, wide eyed. 

Rickon shrugged again. "I think so. It's hard to tell. It's very whispery."

Arya's eyes lit up as she swung in her chair to face Sansa. "Can we please go tonight and try to get it to talk to us? Please. Pleeeease!"

Sansa did not want to go anywhere near that tree again. However now she wanted to make sure her brother wasn't hearing phantom voices. With great reluctance, she nodded.

Arya bounced up and down in her chair and began excitedly chatting about what she planned to bring on their "mission." 

Sansa was amused despite her misgivings as she reached to take the honey back from Rickon. 

Maester Wolkan stumbled into the great hall, ashen faced, holding a letter out to her in a shaking hand.  
Sansa looked at him in question as she took the letter.  
He merely shook his head and fled the room. 

The letter was from the Citadel.  
The Great Sept of Baelor had exploded in a reign of Wildfire.  
Queen Margaery, her brother Loras, her father Mace, the High Sparrow and countless other noble men and women had been killed instantly as they were gathered there for the first day of hearings in Cersei's regicide trial. Hundreds of citizens were also killed. Hundreds more were injured and now homeless. 

Cersei had been arrested as the mastermind of the plot and was being held in the black cells under order of King Tommen.  
Civil war had broken out between the remaining members of the Faith Militant and the king's army.  
King Tommen formally surrendered and was waiting for Stannis to march into the city.

Sansa collapsed to her knees in shock.  
She vaguely heard the shouts of concern and scraping of chairs as Arya and Rickon came to her sides. 

She handed Arya the letter and rose on shaky legs, trying to compose herself. 

As soon as Arya finished reading and began telling Rickon and Shireen what happened, Sansa snatched the letter back and stalked through the castle. 

She slammed open the door to the tower and began shouting Tyrion's name.

Tyrion was clutching the bars of his cell, wide eyed and wary as she approached. 

She angrily shoved the letter through the bars and demanded "Did you have anything to do with this? Tyrion, I swear to all the gods I will kill you myself if you..."

"What are you talking about?!" he shouted back at her. As he read the letter, he seemed genuinely shocked and horrified.  
"I had no idea there were any more caches of Wildfire left. I swear to you! I never told Cersei where to find the pyromancer. I wouldnt..."  
Tyrion fell silent as he walked to his cot and sat on the edge looking more lost than anyone Sansa had ever seen.  
Suddenly he asked "What of Jaime and Myrcella? Are they alive?"

Sansa shook her head. "I don't know. I'm sorry."  
Sansa felt like crying.  
No, not one of the those nobles who died ever lifted a finger to help her or her father in Kings Landing. But she never wished them harm.  
She felt rage toward Cersei though. Stupid, selish, reckless Cersei, so consumed with vengeance that she murdered hundreds of nobles and innocent citizens, destroyed the grand Sept, lost Tommen his kingdom and cost herself her own life. 

Stannis knew Tommen was not his nephew and he had no love at all for Cersei.  
They both would not live long. Sansa did hope Myrcella was safe. Myrcella who was so kind to everyone.  
She did not care about Jaime and she would not lie about that, but neither did she wish him harm. 

Tyrion lay on his cot, his back to her, shaking and sniffling. 

She turned and left him there.  
She could not offer him comfort but she would give him privacy.  
It was all she had to give him.


	23. Chapter 23

Stannis Baratheon and his combined forces marched solemnly into a bruised and battered city. 

King Tommen was waiting in the throne room when Stannis arrived.  
After a formal declaration of surrender, he left the throne room in shackles as Tommen Lannister.

Mrycella had indeed been taken away from Kings Landing by her father Jaime the week before Stannis arrived.  
Their current whereabouts are unknown. 

Helping to sort through the rubble of the Sept for the bodies of the dead was tasked to volunteers from the army. 

The Silent Sisters prepared each body for burial with the same devotion and care regardless of nobility. 

Many bodies remained unclaimed.  
Stannis declared a day of mourning for the city of King's Landing as several great pyres were built for the unclaimed.

After the day of mourning, with a haze of smoke from the funeral pyres still hanging in the air, Cersei Lannister Baratheon was executed by beheading. 

She walked with her head held high through a silent, stone faced crowd. 

She did not express remorse or beg for mercy. Her last words were a fierce declaration of her love for her children and their father, Jaime. 

She glared at Stannis until she was forced to her knees. 

Stannis swung the sword himself. 

Olenna Tyrell was later said to be furious that she missed Cersei's execution but she sent Stannis her personal thanks nonetheless. 

A field of tents had been quickly set up for displaced families. And the royal larders were ordered to be emptied to feed them. 

As clean up of the rubble continued, life in Kings Landing began anew. 

Stannis chose an his small council and appointed several new men to his Kingsguard. 

After some debate, Stannis sternly declared the Sept would not be rebuilt as he saw no good coming from a monarchy being so entrenched with any one religion.  
No one dared argue further. 

The city was searched extensively for any additional caches of wildfire.  
Two large caches were found secreted away within hidden chambers in the city's sewer tunnels. As they were deemed too volatile to be disturbed, permanent guard shifts at those tunnels were added to duties of the City Watch. 

With Kings Landing coming to order,  
the Free Folk began traveling North. Jon had been requested to remain behind to discuss the Night's Watch with Stannis and his small council. 

Sansa was so very anxious for Jon's return. 

Life at Winterfell had continued almost as usual during this time. 

Arya and the Hound were making inquiries in their search for Gendry. 

Brienne continued to train new soliders.

Rickon and Shireen continued to gambol about like puppies. 

And Sansa conducted a seemingly neverending host of meetings, usually with one wolf or another laid across her feet. 

Tyrion remained in his cell.  
Sansa personally relayed to him all of the information she received from Kings Landing. 

He usually simply nodded his thanks and then returned to lay on his cot, facing the wall.  
The only emotion he showed was a relieved half smile when he learned his niece and brother had escaped the city and that Tommen remained alive in the black cells. 

Sansa had begun to enjoy spending time sitting at the base of the heart tree in the early evenings. After several uneventful evenings spent with Rickon and Arya, (during which nothing unusual happened, much to Arya's disappointment), Sansa no longer feared the heart tree.  
She did not pray to the old gods. She mostly sat and enjoyed the quiet. 

One evening, as she sat against the heart tree with her eyes closed she heard the tell tale rustling along the ground of human footsteps. She sighed inwardly imagining it to be Maester Wolkan scurrying to find her. 

"You look like a goddess come to life," Jon said softly. 

Sansa squealed and tried to scramble to her feet, unfortunstely landing in a heap as she stepped on the hem of her gown. 

Jon burst out laughing as he rushed to help her up but she pulled him down to her and clutched at his shoulders. 

"When did you get here?!"  
"I just arrived!"  
They spoke over one another breathlessly and then laughed at themselves. 

The laughter quickly dissolved as Jon asked "May I kiss you?" 

"Always," she replied. 

Gentle kisses grew more passionate as their hands began to wander.  
Sansa had a fleeting thought of what her father would say to her rolling around with in such an unladylike manner in his beloved and sacred godswood. But the thought quickly left her as Jon's hand slid under her skirts. 

She was so distracted by Jon's lovely fingers that she did not notice the rustling of the leaves above them. 

It was only when the howling of wolves began that she untangled her fingers from Jon's curls and pushed at his shoulders. 

"Jon! We need to go. Something is happening," she whispered urgently. She felt a knot of anxiety bloom in her belly.  
"Yes, my love. I've been dreaming of that something for months," he murmured, continuing to kiss along her neck. 

Sansa tried again. "No, no. We need to leave. Something is coming....please, let's go." 

Jon lifted his head and looked at her with concern.  
He immediately leapt to his feet and offered her his hands to help her up. 

As she stood, the mouth of the face of the heart tree began to move.  
Sansa gasped and pointed a a shaking finger at it.  
Jon whipped his head around to see the threat. 

"Saaaannnnnssssaaaa" 

The sound seemed to come from all around them.

Jon pushed her behind him and held his arms back as if to shield her from a physical threat.  


"Who's there?!" Jon demanded angrily. 

"No feeeeaaarrrr," the whisper replied. 

Sansa clutched Jon's back and buried her face between his shoulder blades.  
The wind grew stronger and Sansa nearly screamed as Ghost suddenly slunk past her to sit close to the base of the tree. 

"Stop this! Who is there?!" Jon shouted. 

"Aliiiiivvveee," the voice croaked. 

"Who are you? What is this?" 

There was no reply except for the sudden flight of a dozen crows from the branches of the tree. 

Jon turned to pull Sansa into his arms as she burst into tears. 

"What was that?" Jon asked. 

Sansa shook her head and mumbled "I don't know" into his shoulder. 

The breeze stopped as quickly as it began. The wolves went quiet.

Sansa stared at the face of the heart tree over Jon's shoulder as fresh red tears glistened back at her in the waning light.


	24. Chapter 24

Sansa was enjoying a cup of tea in her solar when Rickon and Shaggydog burst in.

"I won't let her go. We'll run away!" Rickon shouted.  
Shaggydog's hackles were raised and a low gorwl rumbled from his chest. 

Sansa set her teacup down and sighed. 

"Where is she now?" Sansa asked in a careful tone. 

"In her chambers. She won't come out," Rickon spat as he began pacing. 

Sansa folded her hands in her lap and watched her brother and his wolf.  
"You know that the Princess must return to her fath..."

"No I don't!" Rickon shouted, tears shining in his eyes. 

Sansa tried again. "Rickon. It's not her choice, but it is her duty..." 

"Like it was your duty to go South? And how did that turn out?" Rickon snarled.

"That's enough Rickon," Jon snapped as he entered the room and closed the doors behind him. 

Sansa felt near tears herself at that point. She threw Jon a grateful look as he moved to stand behind her. 

"I love her," Rickon said miserably, throwing himself into Jon's favorite chair. 

The Chair of Brooding, how appropriate Sansa thought. 

"Of course you do," Sansa responded softly. "She is probably in her chambers feeling much the same way that you do. But she must go. It is her duty. Her father is the King now. Her place is by his side. She must learn to rule." 

Jon left her to sit beside Rickon, whose tears were steadily rolling down his cheeks.  
Shaggydog collapsed in a heap and began whimpering forlornly.

"I love her, Sansy. I don't want her to leave. I'm tired of people leaving me," Rickon whispered. 

Sansa felt her heart breaking for her brother. She looked at Jon who seemed close to tears himself. 

She reached across the table and motioned for Rickon to give her his hand. With a put upon sigh that only a little brother can give, he flopped his hand onto her palm.  
"Rickon, spend these last few days with the princess showing her your devotion and care. Visit all the places you usually go. Do all the things you usually do. And at the farewell feast, dance with her...." 

Rickon startled "I don't know how to dance!" 

Sansa and Jon smiled at each other.  
"I'll have the musicians play a song or two that only require you to hold her and shuffle your feet a little, how's that?" Sansa promised, chuckling. 

Rickon stared at her, eyes vunerable and jaw set stubbornly at the same time. 

"I will go speak to her if you like," Sansa offered. 

Rickon nodded. 

She looked at Jon who gave her one of his disconcerting attempts at winking as he reached over to clasp Rickon's shoulder. 

As she walked through the castle Sansa thought of her parents. How would they have handled helping their youngest child navigate his first love? 

As she reached Shireen's chamber, Sansa hoped she was being a comfort somehow. 

She was admitted entrance to see the princess whose red eyes and tear stained face touched Sansa's heart. 

Shireen was more subdued and resigned as Sansa knew she would be. She knew Shireen had been taught from her earliest memories that she must always be prepared to do as duty commanded. 

Sansa held out her arms and Shireen stepped into them gratefully. 

After a while, the princess stepped away and heaved out sigh. 

"Does your father know of your feelings?" Sansa asked gently.

"I have been subtle in my letters as I didn't want him or my mother to worry."

"Of course. Princess, you are about to begin life at royal court. My experience there was....difficult. But you have an opportunity to set the tone. Make kindness the rule rather than the exception. Be brave. Be true to yourself. Grow and flourish. Learn as much as you can. Show your father and the court you are capable of making wise decisions. And when it comes time to find a proper consort, your opinion will be heard more clearly. Do you understand?" 

Shireen smiled and nodded. 

"Now, I think you should get dressed and enjoy the day. Enjoy each of the days left here at Winterfell. And at the feast, I know of a certain young man who intends to claim the two slowest of dances with you," Sansa said, giving Shireen a sly smile. 

Shireen's face lit up as she called for her maid. 

Sansa left the chambers feeling glad the princess was in better spirits. She worried for Shireen. The royal court she had experienced was not kind. Every move she had made was scrutinized and criticized.  
Shireen would have struggled. Despite her status, she may still struggle now.  
The greyscale scars covering the side of her face did not diminish the brightness of her eyes or touch the curve of her sweet smile. But Sansa knew many would not see past it. And as unfair as it was, she knew some people would whisper cruel comments.  
She hoped the princess would take control of her ladies and establish a new, kinder era in court.

Perhaps she would pray again. For her brother and Shireen. If the gods meant for those two to join, it would surely happen regardless of Sansa's prayers. But her prayers certainly couldn't hurt. 

Rickon and Shaggydog were walking toward Shireen's chambers as Sansa headed back to her solar.  
Rickon smiled at her and gently tugged on the end of her braid as she passed him. 

When she entered her solar again, Jon held out his arms and she plopped herself down in his lap. 

"Oof!" 

"Jon Snow! Are you trying to imply something about my weight?!" Sansa said laughing. 

"Oh, I like it. In fact, I should ask the cook to make some more of those pies you like..." 

Sansa poked him in the ribs as she giggled. 

Jon waggled his eyebrows at her before he kissed her cheek. 

"My heart aches for them," she said quietly. 

"Aye," Jon replied. 

"My annulment is final, you know. I am free to marry again."

"Aye. Did you have someone in mind?" 

"Jon Snow!" she laughed and poked him in the ribs again. 

They both had duties to attend to but for just a few moments they enjoyed being two young fools in love.


	25. Chapter 25

As part of Jon's plan to reform the Night's Watch, married men would now be allowed to serve and receive wages paid by the crown.  
Men of sound mind convicted of any crime other than murder could choose to serve their sentence with The Night's Watch. And if they received a good recommendation from the voting committee they could be released early and choose to re-join as free men, eligible to earn wages. 

Recruiting was going strong with the new policies in place. 

Jon would be leaving soon to oversee the training of the first group of new recruits.  
  
Sansa was very proud of Jon and showed nothing but enthusiasm in his presence. However, she was not pleased he would be leaving again so soon. 

To combat her feelings of melancholy, she spent her early mornings sewing her wedding gown.  
She sewed tiny pearls into snowflake patterns and leaping trout along the hem. Two snarling wolves met face to face on the bodice. She also worked on a new fur trimmed cloak for Jon. She made it look as near to her father's cloak as she could remember.  
She hoped Jon would be pleased. 

Their formal request for permission to wed had been granted by Stannis with a simple reply of "I have no objections." 

They had decided to wait for Jon to return from his trip to the Wall so that he could escort Val, Tormund and Jeyne back to Winterfell. 

Sansa and the cook had a modest feast planned and casks of ale and wine had been ordered. 

The gardeners had set aside a small area in the glass garden to grow flowers for Sansa to wind through her hair for the ceremony. 

Jon only requested that Ghost be allowed to stand beside him and that there be no bedding ceremony.  
Sansa happily agreed to both. 

The only thing Sansa was currently unhappy about was their decision to wait.

The realm was stable again. Trade was flourishing. The small folk seemed optimistic again. 

Even Tyrion Lannister had begun asking for books to read.  
Sansa was told he was eating better and had begun playing Cyvasse through the bars of his cell with his guards. 

Stannis seemed to be in no hurry to make a decision regarding Tyrion's fate.  
And that was fine with Sansa, at least for now. 

After much pleading from her staff, Sansa had finally moved into her parent's old rooms. Now that her royal quests were gone she supposed it was alright..  
She had also claimed her father's solar as her own. 

She was sitting in her new solar, in the middle of reviewing the latest grain inventory report when she heard curious thumping and jinglling sounds rapidly approaching her door. 

She opened the door to a red faced and panting Sam.  
"Sam! Come in and sit. Are you alright? Is Gilly alright?" Sansa asked as she poured him a cup of water.  
She got Sam settled into a chair and waited as he rearranged his Maester chains and regained his composure. 

"My lady, it has been confirmed by the Citadel. Another Targaryen lives. Rhaegar's younger sister. Daenerys. She is currently in the city of Mereen."

Sansa remembered hearing an odd whisper or two that perhaps Queen Rhaella, who was with child at the time, had escaped the sacking of King's Landing by the Lannister army.  
That's all Sansa ever thought it was though, a rumor. 

Jon must be told, she thought. And then, to her shame, a wild impulse rose within her to beg Sam to keep it a secret. 

Her heart lurched with fear that Jon would want to cross the sea to meet his aunt, delaying the wedding.  
She admonished herself and sat back in her chair.

"Is there any thing else we know about her?" 

"Umm. Yes....she...ah, has taken control of the city of Meereen with three adolescent dragons, ten thousand Unsullied soliders and five hundred sellswords calling themselves the Second Sons."

Sansa felt a cold dread in her stomach. 

"And does she plan to cross the sea?" Sansa asked faintly. 

"According to spies originally sent by King Robert, yes, she does." Sam replied miserably.

Sansa left her chair to begin pacing.  
Damn, damn and triple damn, she thought. We've only achieved stability in the realm. And now this! 

It suddenly occurred to her that Jon may be in danger if this Targaryen Aunt knows she would not be first in line for the iron throne.

She whirled to face Sam who was watching her warily.  
"Is there any indication she knows anything about Jon?" 

Sam shook his head. "I don't know for certain. It's not common knowledge except here in the North." 

"Has King Stannis been told?" 

"Yes, my lady." 

Sansa began to chew on her thumb nail, a habit her mother detested. 

"Should we tell Jon together?" she asked around her thumb. 

"Tell me what?" Jon said as he walked in sounding amused. 

His smile slowly faded as he took in each of their worried faces. 

Sansa looked at Sam who gaped back at her. After watching Sam open and close his mouth several times, Sansa began. "Jon. You have a living aunt..." 

"No. What?" Jon shook his head, chuckling. 

"Your father's sister. She is alive and living in Meereen." 

Jon stared at her, clenching his jaw. 

Sansa looked helplessly at Sam. 

"It..ah..seems...that she has dragons...and uh...quite a large army," Sam squirmed under Jon's angry gaze.

"There are rumors she may plan to cross the Narrow Sea and fight for the Iron Throne," Sansa finished quietly. 

Both Sansa and Sam jumped when Jon suddenly flung open the door so hard it slammed against the wall.

"Sam, please leave us," he spat through clenched teeth. 

Sam cast a worried look at Sansa.  
She gave a nod and Sam sprang from his chair into the hallway in two steps. 

Jon closed the door behind Sam and leaned against it.  
"This changes nothing," he growled at her.  
"Jon..." 

"No! This changes nothing. I have sworn my oath to Stannis. It's done. I will marry you. You will have my children and they will be named Stark. I don't care about anything else, All I want is you. Our home. Our family. You have to believe me," he told her as he crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. 

They held each other as Jon rested his head on her shoulder. 

"Jon, I never doubted you for a single second. Do you hear me? I only fear this woman will view you as a threat. I cannot bear it. I cannot. All I want is you too. Our home. Our family." she whispered. 

Jon pulled back to look into her eyes.  
His face was grim as he told her  
"Then we need to help Stannis make sure she stays in Meereen."


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short break from all the Big Dramatic Happenings

Sansa clutched the letter for Tyrion in her hand as she walked across the courtyard to the tower. 

Maester Wolkan brought the letter to her directly  
from the rookery that morning. 

A non descript seal gave Sansa no clue as to the author.  
First she held the letter to her window hoping to see through it.  
She could not.  
Next, she tried flinging the letter across the room as she stood ready to duck behind her desk in case anything flew out.of it.  
Nothing did.  
She then borrowed a rolling pin from the kitchens and rolled it over the letter a dozen times.  
No tiny vials of poison crunched beneath the pin.  


And so she decided to give it to Tyrion unopened. 

She almost turned around and ran back to her solar to rip the cursed thing open several times.  
But ultimately, she pressed on. 

Tyrion looked at her curiously as she stood outside his cell, staring at him. 

When the guard stepped back she held the letter between the bars as inconspicuously as possible. 

Tyrion warily approached her and reached out to take the letter. 

Sansa could not make herself let go.  
She felt angry tears flooding her eyes as her breath came faster.  
She would have given anything to receive one letter from her family in Kings Landing. Anything.  
The pain of those memories battled with the responsibility of being Warden of the North.  


What if there was something terrible in this letter?  
And what if she just hands it over to Tyrion Lannister, enemy of the crown, because she doesn't want anyone to feel as lost and lonely as she did once ?

Stannis would never forgive her.

"Don't..." was all she said through clenched teeth as his fingers touched the letter. 

Tyrion withdrew his hand and stepped back.  
"You can read it, Sansa. I promise," he whispered. 

She stared at Tyrion for a few seconds, searching his face for any hint of a lie. 

He tentatively reached for the letter again and this time she let it go. 

She silently cursed herself as she watched him read.  
If Jon were here he would have taken the letter, read it and thrown it into the fire.  
But Jon wasn't here. 

Tyrion looked up at her, smiling. Then  
he passed the letter back to her through the bars of his cell. 

"M is safe. My destiny awaits. Behave. -J."

"Jaime," Tyrion said, grinning. 

"What does he mean by his destiny awaits?" Sansa wondered aloud. 

Tyrion gave her a sad smile, shaking his head. "That, I do not know. I can only be glad he and Myrcella are alive," Tyrion replied. 

Sansa shoved the letter back through the bars. "Keep it," she said, not unkindly. 

Tyrion nodded his thanks. 

Sansa turned on her heel and walked quickly into the courtyard lost in her thoughts.  


Cersei used to laugh at her saying she should not listen to her heart for all it whispers are pretty lies.  
Sansa was determined to ignore that advice for the most part but she also feared her heart would prove to be her undoing.  


As she had no other pressing business to attend to at the moment she walked around the grounds enjoying the chill in the air. 

Jon had taken Ghost, Rickon and Shaggydog with him to Castle Black in hopes of putting an end to Rickon's moping.  
Sansa snickered as she wished Jon good luck with that. 

Brienne had left with Arya and Nymeria to follow a possible lead on Gendry's whereabouts.

Sansa and Arya had a terrible row over Gendry.  
Sansa was concerned that Gendry might not receive the same treatment from Stannis that Jon had if he swore fealty and renounced his claim to the throne. She only meant to prepare Arya for the possibility.  
Arya took offense and the fight began.  
Years of sisterly misunderstandings and old resentments were hurled at each other.  
After a solid hour of yelling, the Hound stomped in with two bottles of arbor red, slammed them on the table, told them to "please shut the fuck up, start drinking and get over it" and then he stomped back out, slamming the door behind him. 

Sansa and Arya stared at the door in shock. Then Arya began to chuckle and grabbed one of the bottles of wine.  
Sansa shrugged and retrieved two glasses from her side table.  
The sisters ended up drinking both bottles of wine as they talked well into the night. 

The next morning they stayed curled up in Sansa's bed, nursing headaches, until near lunchtime.

Sansa was still worried about Arya going off to find Gendry. She knew Arya could handle herself in all sorts of trouble. It was her heart Sansa worried about the most. 

Still, she smiled and waved until Arya, Brienne and Nymeria could no longer see her on the day they rode out. 

The Hound had stood beside her, rolling his eyes. "She'll be fine. She's a tough little bitch," he said proudly. 

Sansa smiled to herself thinking of the friendship between her sister and the Hound as she continued her walk.  
She stopped when she reached the edge of the godswood and scowled at the heart tree. 

A sudden, childish impulse took hold of her and she looked around to make sure no one was watching before she stuck out her tongue at that horrible face in that old horrible old tree. 

She then turned on her heel and marched toward the castle. 

Several crows squawked to rebuke her and when she looked back to scowl at them too, she could almost swear the face in the heart tree was smiling at her.


	27. Chapter 27

It was later said that DaenerysTargaryen was reluctant to reopen the fighting pits in Meereen due to a premonition. The truth is she did not have a premonition.  
She simply thought the fighting pits were barbaric. 

But things had not been going well for her in Meereen.  
After an initial triumphant welcome, the citizens of Meereen were becoming disenchanted with her leadership. 

During one particularly angry exchange, nobleman Hizdahr zo Loraq told her she was demanding that the people of Meereen sing of their love for her while she stood over them with her boot on their necks. 

Daenerys finally agreed to reopen the fighting pits as a way to sooth the tensions between herself and the noble families. 

As she clapped her hands to signal the fighting could begin, the Sons of the Harpy, a group of Ghiscari noblemen who wanted to end Daenerys' reign, began attacking the crowd. 

In the chaos, Daenerys was forced to run into the center of the fighting pit.  
She smiled in relief as Drogon, her most fearsome prodigal dragon flew overhead.  
Barristan Selmy, her Hand of the Queen and former Kingsguard for her father was valiantly fighting his way through the crowds toward her.  
Daario Naharis, her lover and leader of The Second Sons, was also fighting his way toward her even while protecting her beloved companion Messandei. She was already plotting how she would find each member of the Sons of the Harpy and kill them with dragonfire when a blade was plunged through her back and out through her chest. 

Shock, pain and disbelief rushed through her.  
Barristan Selmy screamed in horror. 

Jaime Lannister removed his Sons of the Harpy mask and stepped in front of her.  
Daenerys stared at him as she struggled to stay upright.  
"I am Jaime Lannister," he said calmly.  
Her eyes widened in shock and anger.  
"I had to," he whispered helplessly as tears filled his eyes. "You are your father come again." 

Jaime felt no pain as the great black dragon reigned fire on him. 

Daenerys Targaryen, Queen of Meereen, Khalessi of the Great Grass Sea, Mother of Dragons, The Unburnt Breaker of Chains died in the center of the fighting pits, in the arms of Barristan Selmy. 

As she breathed her last, shuddering breath, Drogon roared. 

The two smaller dragons, Rhaegal and Viserion broke free of their chains and began throwing themselves against the stone door of the dragon pit in the Great Pyramid. 

No one knows who did it or why, but the stone door was rolled away and the dragons knew freedom once again. 

Drogon followed Barristan Selmy to the Great Pyramid with Daenerys' body.  
Anyone coming close to Barristan during that walk was incinerated without prejudice.

Once their mother was safely inside, the dragons roared for hours. 

Days later, after the last of the flames died from their mother's funeral pyre, the dragons flew in unison, toward the Narrow Sea.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW for panic attacks In this one.

Sansa enjoyed taking a mug of hot honeyed tea with her as she walked the battlements in the early morning. 

She had finished all of the wedding clothes: her dress, Jon's cloak and doublets for Arya and Rickon.

She had now become used to rising early and though she knew it was a bit foolish, she hoped each morning that she would see the outline of Jon riding in on the horizon. 

The winds had grown cold and it was common to wake to fresh snowfall.  
She was pleased at the thought of being married in the snow. 

And lately everything made her think of her wedding. 

She closed her eyes and imagined how handsome Jon would look as he waited for her. And she hoped he would find her beautiful in her new gown. 

She smiled as she brought the warm mug of tea up to take a sip.  
Three large birds appeared on the horizon.  
She squinted. Very large birds.  
Hawks? Or owls perhaps? 

She felt an odd prickling of dread as she realized how fast the birds were approaching. 

At the point she realized she was not seeing birds she only had time to throw herself into the snow as the beasts soared directly over the castle.

Panic consumed her as she could only assume Daenerys Targaryen had somehow learned of Jon and sent her dragons to burn down the castle. 

She ran blindly through the halls screaming to anyone who could hear to ring the bells. 

She ran into the courtyard as the shadow of the largest dragon blocked out the sun. She screamed at her people to get inside right bloody now!  
She screamed until her voice faltered. 

It was absolute pandemonium as people ran for cover. 

Sansa stood staring up at the dragons in shock as they circled Winterfell. 

Anger replaced her fear and she ran toward the godswood. 

She collapsed to her knees and pounded her fists into the trunk of the heart tree. 

"I will not lose my home or my people! Do you hear me you hateful tree?! I am Sansa Stark of Winterfell! The blood of the first men runs in my veins! I demand the protection of the gods of my father!" 

A strong gust of wind blew through the godswood as hundreds of crows flew out of the braches above her. 

The green dragon suddenly broke formation with the others and began to fall before seeming to shake itself a few seconds later. 

All three dragons then emitted bone rattling roars. 

Sansa curled into a ball and covered her ears.  
No.It could not end like this.  
It would not end like this.  
She would not die here.  
She started to rise and saw her brother Bran standing beside the heart tree.  
His eyes were completely white.  
She fell as her knees gave out.  
As quickly as she saw Bran, he was gone. 

The winds suddenly died down as the dragons stopped circling and flew beyond view. 

The Hound came running, sword in his hand and knelt beside her.  
"Little Bird?" 

"Sandor," she croaked. "Help me, please." 

He took on most of her weight to help her stand.

The Hound looked at the sky. "Dragons? Where the fuck did dragons come from?" 

"They are here for Jon," she whispered.  
As she tried to take a deep breath, she could not force her lungs to expand.  
She banged her hands against the Hound's arms in panic. 

"Little Bird, Little Bird. Stop. Breathe. They didn't attack. Listen to me, girl! The dragons did not attack. I have seen Harrenhal. They could have burnt us down. They are gone now. Breathe, girl!" he said as soothingly as he was able. 

"They were sent to kill Jon...I have to help him. I have to...please, Sandor. I have to..." she was wheezing and clutching at her chest as her knees gave out. 

The Hound scooped her up and ran as quickly as he could to the castle.  
"Get the Maester now!" he growled as he entered the doors.  
"The Maester is with Lannister," a guard replied. 

The Hound unleashed a stream of curses and stomped back through the courtyard toward the tower where Tyrion was jailed. 

He kicked the door open and maneuvered her inside.  
The tower guards who yelled at him to stop quickly leapt out of his way as he walked towards Tyrion's cell.  
"Help her!" he barked at Maester Wolkan. 

The guards dragged a table over and the Hound laid her on it gently. 

The Maester began examining her asking the Hound what happened. 

"Fucking dragons flew over the castle. She thinks the Targaryen bitch sent them after Jon. She was crying in the godswood when I found her. She can't catch her breath..."

"Were there riders?" Tyrion blurted out.

"What?" 

"Did the dragons have riders?" Tyrion asked impatiently. 

"How the fuck should I know?" the Hound snapped. 

"Did anyone see any riders on the back of any of the dragons?" Tyrion asked again. 

Sansa tried to sit up as she croaked "I saw no riders." 

Tyrion's shoulders slumped as he grabbed the bars of his cell.  
"Perhaps they were looking for Jon on their own." 

Sansa continued gasping for air and trembling as she tried to focus on Tyrion. 

Tyrion lowered his head. "If the Targaryen who hatched the dragons is no longer alive, the dragons may be looking for another." 

He raised his eyes and looked at Sansa.  
"Tyrion...what do you..." she tried to ask.

"My brother...he wanted to die a hero," Tyrion's voice choked and tears began to roll down his cheeks.  
"Rid the world of mad Targaryens." 

"Tyrion," Sansa whispered, her heart battling between hope for Jon and pity for Tyrion, Tommen and Myrcella.

"It is possible the dragons are seeking Jon for comfort or to be lead by him. Perhaps to protect him," Tyrion said, keeping his eyes on hers. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered. 

Tyrion gave a watery chuckle. "Have you ever tried to stop a Lannister? Nothing short of death can." 

"I will remember that," she replied, a soft smile playing at the corners of her mouth. 

Tyrion turned his back to them and laid on his cot. 

Sansa was eventually able to breathe well enough that the Maester helped her to her sit up fully.  
The Maester then ordered her to her chambers to rest.  
She did not argue. 

The Hound insisted on helping her to her chambers.  
Again, she did not argue. 

As they walked out of the tower and into the courtyard, Sansa saw the silhouettes of the dragons circling in the distance and she shuddered.


	29. Chapter 29

Sansa chewed on her thumb nail as she stared out the window trying to see if any of the dragons were about. 

They seemed to have settled somewhere in the wolfswood three days ago and took turns flying back to lazily circle the skies above the castle.  
Sansa spent many anxious hours watching the tree tops, hoping she would not see the smoke of a raging fire. 

Everyone was staying inside as much as possible.  
And when someone did have to venture outside they ran from one building to the next as if the dragons were breathing fire on their arses.

Sansa supposed it was good training for running from the white walkers if they managed to live through the dragon invasion.

How did it come to this, she wondered sourly  
Dead men marching beyond the Wall, dragons circling Winterfell and a haunted heart tree to deal with all on top of losing Cyvasse four times in a row to a very drunk Sandor Clegane. Who, by the way, was the most ungracious winner in Westeros. 

Sansa sighed.  
She was tired of feeling helpless.  
There had to be something she could do. 

She checked the window one last time, grabbed her cloak and slipped out of her solar.  
She had not been brave enough to go back outside since the dragons arrived.  
Her guards grumbled nervously as they followed her.

She peeked out the door for one last dragon check and then ran as fast as she could to the godswood. 

She cringed at how loud her guards' boots sounded as they chased after her. 

When she stopped at the edge of the godswood, the guards who had been watching the sky rather than her, barreled into her back..

She shushed their apologizes and smacked away their hands as they reached to help her up.  
She glared at them and pointed out a tree they could hide under before picking herself up and stomping over to the heart tree. 

With her temper up, she had never sounded more like her mother as she spat "Brandon Stark! If you are here...or in this tree somehow...come out this instant!" 

A crow landed on her shoulder and she gasped and startled so violently it squawked at her and fluttered a few feet away before coming back to land on her head. 

She frantically waved her hands above her head to scare the crow off of her. It simply fluttered away and then came back to land on her shoulder again. 

She ducked and dodged and ran but each time, the crow fluttered away and came back to her.  
On her third time running around the heart tree, waving her arms wildly overhead to fend off the feathered menace she noticed the face in the heart tree was definitely smiling. 

"You?!" she hissed and pointed a finger at the face. 

In her head she heard chuckling and young masculine voice say "Hello sister."

"Bran?! Am i dreaming?" she whispered aloud, looking wide eyed around the godswood. 

Another chuckle. "No. I am here with you. The heart tree allows me to see you here."

"What?! Bran! How? Bran? Brandon!" 

There was no reply as the crow squawked and flew away, startling her.  
Then she turned to see Sam Tarly standing behind her and she startled again.  
Sam was watching her, looking very concerned. 

"Yes, Sam?" she said a bit snappishly. 

Sam's face flushed as he said "I think I may have an idea about our dragon problem." 

"Do tell," she replied with a raised brow. 

"High Valyerian! According to the research Maester Wolkan and I have been doing about dragons, we know Targaryens commanded their dragons in High Valyrian," Sam said excitedly. 

"And do either of you speak High Valyrian?" Sansa asked.

"Well, I know a little. And I found some translated phrases as well." 

Sansa smiled and patted his shoulder. "Thank you Sam. But how can you safely speak to the dragons? I cannot and will not ask you to endanger yourself."

"I will stand on the battlement and call out to the smallest one when it is alone. I can duck inside if it seems...um...angry." 

"Sam..."

"I want to try. Please. Let me try."

Sansa searched his face and finally nodded. She linked her arm with Sam's and motioned for her guards to follow them back into the castle. 

It was a long afternoon of waiting for the golden dragon to appear.  
Everyone in the castle had been sent to the lower levels and asked to stay put. Sansa and Maester Wolkan watched from just inside the door as Sam crept out onto the battlement. 

The dragon had completed one circuit when Sam called out "Rytsas!" 

The dragon continued flying. 

"Louder," whispered Maester Wolkan encouragingly. 

Sam nodded nervously.

"Rytsas zaldrīzes!" Sam yelled, slightly louder. 

The dragon paid him no mind. 

Sam glanced over at them and Maester Wolkan made large arm movements and motioned for Sam to try again. 

Sam sighed, took a deep breath and bellowed "Rytsas zaldrīzes!" 

The dragon stopped, looking down at Sam for a moment before moving toward the battlement. 

"Sam, come in!" Sansa frantically whispered, leaning out of the door with her hand out.

Sam shook his head and tried again, shouting "Rytsas zaldrīzes!"

The dragon descended until it was at eye level with Sam, its body hovering in front of the porticullis. 

"Rytsas," Sam said weakly. 

The dragon cocked its head. 

" Iksi raqirossa!"

The dragon cocked its head in the other direction looking for all the world like a giant dog.  
A giant, deadly, fire breathing, flying dog. 

" Ȳdra daor ipradagon īlva!"

The dragon made a clacking sound from deep within its body as it watched Sam.  
Then it soared rapidly into the air until it was almost out of sight.  
Suddenly, it seemed to be diving straight for Sam, impossibly fast.  
Sansa screamed at Sam to come inside. 

But then dragon stopped its dive and began a series of graceful full body rolls before final swooping back to eye level with Sam. 

Sam and the dragon regarded each other silently until Sam finally squeaked "Sȳz zaldrīzes."

The dragon slowly flew upward again and headed off toward the wolfswood. 

Sam staggered over to the battlement wall, he sagged and leaned his back on the wall for support as Sansa and Maester Wolkan rushed to his side.  
Sansa asked "Sam! Are you alright?! What did you say?" 

Sam, looking dazed, replied "I said hello. I said we are friends, please don't eat us....and I told it that it Is a good dragon." 

Sansa shook her head as a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Of course you did. Samwell Tarly, you are one of the bravest and kindest man I shall ever know." 

She and Maester Wolkan helped a trembling Sam to his chambers.

After a blistering lecture from Gilly, Sam's color slowly returned to normal and he stopped trembling.  
Sansa settled them both into their comfiest chairs with cups of tea and her thanks. 

As she entered her solar, she automatically crossed the room to look out her window again. But now she was feeling more optimistic than she had this morning.


	30. Chapter 30

"Open the gates!" 

A wide eyed Rickon rode in first. Ghost and Shaggydog growled as they flanked Rickon's terrified horse. 

Rickon dismounted and ran into Sansa's arms. 

"Dragons?! Why are dragons here?!" Rickon asked excitedly. 

"I think they are here for Jon," she replied. "And speak softly, please. Loud voices seem to annoy them." 

She looked up to see Jon had dismounted his horse and was looking around warily as he walked over to her. 

"Hello sweet girl. I've missed you," he said softly. Then he quirked a brow and asked her "Anything new or interesting around the castle?"

Sansa growled as she untangled herself from Rickon and launched herself at Jon.  
"That was your last trip without me, Jon Snow!" she squirmed in his arms to get as close to him as possible. 

"Dragons?" he whispered in her ear. 

"Yes, three of them. We think they are here to see you," she whispered back. 

"Me? Why on earth...."

"It's unconfirmed but we believe Daenerys died and her dragons have come..." 

"Why?" he asked confused. 

"To find another Targaryen?" She replied. 

Jon blew out a breath. "Oh gods, I'm so sorry love..."

"No, Jon, how could you know? It was terrifying when they first arrived. But it's... perhaps a tiny bit less terrifying now," she said looking at the golden dragon perched on the ledge of the battlement, watching them.  
The green dragon was circling directly above the courtyard, making a clacking sound.  
The great black dragon was nowhere to be seen though though it occasionally roared within earshot. 

"Dragons, Sansa! What in the seven hells do I do with dragons?" Jon asked incredulously. 

"Sam has ideas. Let's speak to him, shall we?" 

Jon nodded, looking warily at the golden dragon. 

As they turned to walk into the castle, the green dragon suddenly landed behind them with a loud thump.

Sansa whirled around and said "Sȳz zaldrīzes! Daor perzys!"

Jon looked at her in surprise.. 

"Bisa Iksis...Jon." 

She glanced at Jon. "Sam has been teaching us some High Valyrian. The dragons seem to understand it," Sansa whispered. 

"What did you say to it?" Jon said sounding fascinated. 

"I said good dragon, no fire, and I told it you are Jon" she replied with a small shrug. 

Jon's mouth twitched as if he were about to smile.  
"Don't you dare smile," Sansa warned. 

The green dragon shuffled forward.  
Jon turned to face it as Sansa scrambled toward the castle door.  
"Jon, no!" she hissed. 

Jon and the dragon regarded each other. "Hello," Jon said, reaching his hand out for the dragon to sniff his hand...or possibly bite off. 

Sansa felt she might faint. "Jon!" she cried out. 

Jon ignored her as the dragon stretched its long neck forward and brushed its cheek against Jon's hand.  
A slow rumbling sound came from the dragon's chest like a cat's purr. 

The dragon closed its eyes and leaned closer to Jon as he ran his hands down its neck.. 

The golden dragon suddenly landed beside them and stretched out its neck for petting too. 

The green dragon hissed and snapped but the golden dragon paid it no mind. 

They seemed like cats right now, Sansa thought wildly. Giant, terrible, man eating, fire breathing cats. 

"How do I say friends in Valyrian?" Jon asked excitedly over his shoulder. 

"Raqirossa," Sansa replied dully.   
"Raqirossa!" Jon shouted at the dragons 

Sansa rolled her eyes.  
The dragons continued purring and watching Jon reverently. 

"They don't seem so bad," he said as he walked up to her grinning. 

Just then, a shadow passed over the courtyard as the great black dragon circled overhead.  
The dragon roared and the very large, very charred body of an elk crash landed in the courtyard between them. 

The black dragon roared again and the other two dragons scrambled off in pursuit. 

Jon opened his mouth and then quickly closed it. 

Sansa turned and walked back inside the castle, shutting the door quite firmly in Jon's face. 

A while later, Sansa was relaxing in her solar with Ghost after a thoroughly entertaining lunch with Rickon. 

It had been a good for Rickon to get away.  
He was so excited to tell her about his adventures at the Wall that he constantly interrupted himself to launch into a new story.  
Shaggydog fed off his master's energy and ran laps around the room. 

Rickon had realized he was not suited for life in Kings Landing and though Shireen was a good sport, she was not made for the rugged lifestyle he wanted in the North.  
They had exchanged letters and agreed to remain the best of friends.  
Therefore Rickon didn't feel badly about kissing Dalsa, a Free Folk beauty with eyes the color of a stormy sky and the softest eight fingers in the world (the ninth and tenth fingers being very callused from archery practice.)

Sansa was delighted her little brother was happy again. And that he seemed to have settled things amicably with Shireen.  
As he was leaving, she pulled him into her arms and kissed his cheek as he grumbled. 

When he had enough of her cuddling, he squirmed away and ran out of her solar as she laughed. 

She was brushing Ghost when the door cracked open just enough for a bouquet of wildflowers to poke through. 

Sansa's face settled into a frown and she sat up straighter in her chair.

"I am an idiot," Jon said glumly. May I come in and apologize properly?" 

"Yes and yes," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Jon stepped inside, closing the door behind him and leaning on it. He held the flowers in one hand and rubbed the back of his neck with the other. 

"You might find it interesting to know that in the past two hours I've been chewed out by Sam, and also Gilly. The Hound picked me up by the ankles and threatened me with the most vile...and honestly... most creative tortures I've ever heard. I was shat upon by no less than four crows in the godswood and then I talked to Maester Wolkan."

Sansa remained silent but a raised brow to encourage him to keep talking. 

"He told me about the day the dragons came. The fear you all felt. The panic. How you were so worried about our people...about me that you collapsed. After making sure everyone else was safe, of course." Jon sighed and gave her a wry smile.  
"He told me how you and Sam have been learning Valyrian to try and communicate with the dragons. The dragons that came here because of me," he ran his hand over his face and crossed the room to kneel beside her chair.  
"If I had lost you...if anyone had been hurt or killed because of me, I couldn't live with myself," he released a shuddering breath. 

Sansa reached out and took the flowers from him. 

"I can't explain it but I do feel connected to the dragons. I can feel that they won't hurt me," he sighed. "Like I know Ghost would never hurt me."

She laid the flowers carefully on her side table and folded her hands in her lap. 

"I can understand that," she said softly.

He raised his head and looked at her with a pained expression. 

"But Jon I need you to know that I thought the dragons were sent here to kill you and to kill all of us trying to get to you. A dragon is not the same as a wolf. A dragon can burn down a city. It can destroy acres of grain with one breath. It can crush a man by dropping a godsdamed elk from the sky. Those dragons are dangerous. And until you can control them absolutely, they cannot be here, in Winterfell."

He nodded slowly and closed his eyes. 

"Jon," she said softly, taking his hand in hers. "I love you. You will be my husband." 

He gripped her hand and looked into her eyes. 

"I love every part of you that has been and will be. I can learn to....live...with the dragons. But I will tolerate no harm to my family or my people. Our people, Jon. It is our duty to protect them. And that means protecting them from the dragons as well." 

Jon exhaled and nodded.  
"I will work with them away from the castle. Sam has agreed to help me. Sansa, I am sor..."

"Shhh," she put her finger against his lips and smiled softly. 

"I missed you, Jon Snow," she whispered and stood up. She put her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes as he stood too. He bit his bottom lip around his smile as he pulled her closer. 

"How much did you miss me?" he asked lowly, wagging his eyebrows at her. 

"Not that much," she said, leaning back to see his face and narrowing her eyes at him. 

He chuckled as he pulled her close again. 

"I love you, sweet girl. With all of my heart. You know that, right?" 

"Yes, Jon. I love you too....and I am extremely glad those crows shit on you. I'll thank Bran later." 

"What? Bran?"

"Later. Kiss me Jon Snow."

"Aye."


	31. Chapter 31

The wedding of Jon Snow and Sansa Stark was lovely by all accounts. 

Sansa was radiant in the torchlight as Rickon and Arya escorted her through the godswood. 

Jon did, in fact, look quite handsome in his dark gray doublet as he waited for her by the heart tree. 

A gentle breeze stirred the leaves above them and Sansa smiled.  
"Hello little brother. I'm glad you are with us," she thought. 

Sam grinned at her and asked "Who comes before the old gods?"   
Rickon replied "Sansa of the House Stark. A woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the gods. Who comes to claim her?"

Jon's voice rings out through the godswood "Jon Snow, just a fool in love." 

Sansa and Jon smile at each other, their eyes shining with tears. 

Sam suddenly remembers himself and chuckles as he asks " Who gives her?"

Arya cuts Rickon off with a glare. "She gives herself! But her sister Arya and her brother Rickon of House Stark are fine with it." 

"Sansa, do you take this man?" Sam asked, still grinning at her. 

"I take this man," Sansa sighs happily. 

The feast was small but lively.  
Brienne got just tipsy enough to accept a dance with Rickon.  
During their reel dance, Rickon could not quite lift Brienne fully and they toppled over onto Tormund, Val and Arya who had thought they were safe on the sidelines.  
Gendry was still missing. Arya was disappointed of course but this was not a night for moping. 

Gilly and Sam chatted with Osha and Jeyne near the hallway.  
The wolves roamed through the hall in hopes of scrounging fallen treats from the floor. The Hound roamed the hall pouring ale from the table pitchers into his own tankard.

The castle was in high spirits as the bride and groom made their rounds. 

Jon finally slid over to instruct the musicians to play their liveliest tune.  
He danced Sansa into the hallway, barely noticed by their guests. 

Sansa laughed as Jon pulled her along by her hand through the halls of the castle, Ghost following close behind them. 

When they reached her chambers, Sansa resisted his pull and stopped.  
Jon stepped close to her and leaned his forehead against hers as he whispered "We don't have to do anything but sleep. I'm just happy to be with you." 

She whispered back "You always know what to say."

Jon chuckled and kissed the crown of her head as he pushed open the door,  
He bent down and scooped her off her feet, much to her delight.  
"Ghost, stay! My wife doesn't like an audience," Jon said sternly over Sansa's giggles as he kicked the door closed.

Jon carried her over to the bed and tossed her into the middle of it before diving to land beside her, much to Sansa's amusement.  
They both rolled onto their backs and reached for the other's hand. 

"Jon?"  
"Yes, wife?"  
"I'm not tired."  
"Thank the gods," he said and he pounced. 

The next morning, Sansa lay on her side listening to her husband snore softly.  
It had been an interesting night.  
She felt a pang of soreness in her low belly as she shifted away from the living inferno she had married.  
She froze when his snoring stopped and then relaxed when it started again. 

Intellectually, she knew the mechanics of sex.  
It was a completely different experience actually participating.  
She liked the build up. Very much.  
The actual act was a bit awkward at first though.  
Jon was very sweet the first time they tried. Sweet and gentle and slow. Which was nice. Awkward, but nice.  
The second and third times though he was much more enthusiastic.  
It wasn't until the third go that she understood what all the fuss was about.  
He had flipped them around so that she sat on top of him.  
At first she shrieked and clapped her arms across her chest.  
Once Jon explained what she was meant to do...oh my. 

That third time, she felt was really her true "first" time. She had felt vibrant and in control. And she liked it. 

She couldn't stop her smile as she rolled to her other side to look at Jon. 

His hair was sticking up wildly, he was slack jawed and snoring with a bit of drool pooling on his pillow but he had never looked so handsome to her. 

He opened one eye and croaked "Hello sweet girl." 

She was so overcome with love that she could only beam at him. 

He smiled back her, a bit groggy and bemused as he pulled her into his arms. 

They laid together sighing happily for a while until Ghost began scratching at the door. 

Jon groaned and flopped on his back.  
She leaned over him and combed through his curls with her fingers.

"Husband," she said dreamily. 

Jon chuckled as he sat up. "Wife." 

"And wolf," she replied as she flopped onto her back. 

A series of groaned congratulations greeted them as they entered the great hall for breakfast. Most of their guests still wore their clothes from the night before. 

Jon snickered before he clapped his hands and shouted "Good morning!"

The groans intensified as most people winced and covered their ears. 

Sansa beamed at her clever, amusing husband and wondered how she ever got so lucky. 

Her benevolent feelings lasted until that afternoon.

"No, Jon, you absolutely may not have the dragons fly over Stannis' riding party," she sighed.

Stannis would be arriving any day to see the dragons before continuing on to Castle Black for an assessment of the new Night's Watch. 

Jon was eager to show that he did have control over the dragons but Sansa still did not trust them completely. 

"A compromise?" she offered. 

Jon brightened.

"Have them circle the sky above the castle after Stannis has arrived and you've warned him." 

"You are wise, wife. I agree."

"You two are sickening, you know," Arya said from the doorway, watching Sansa and Jon smile at each other. 

"Yes" they replied in unison.


	32. Chapter 32

Stannis stood in the crowded courtyard of Winterfell scowling at the sky. 

Sansa exchanged a nervous look with Arya. Where in the seven hells was Jon with the dragons, she thought. 

Stannis' entire party turned to look at her as if to ask the same thing. She managed to smile somewhat convincingly. 

Just as Sansa opened her mouth to assure Stannis it wouldn't be long now, the black dragon flew overhead. 

Stannis remained in place, still scowling as the dragon passed over them.  
The rest of his party gasped in alarm and ducked for cover.  
Sansa sympathized with them. 

Those living in proximity of Winterfell had grown somewhat used to the dragons.  
Not to say anyone was pleased with their presence, but they had mostly stopped screaming and running for cover when the dragons passed overhead. 

The golden dragon, ever the curious creature, suddenly descended into the courtyard, landing with a great thud.  
Stannis held his ground.  
The dragon crept forward making the now familiar clacking sound that Sansa still wasn't sure was good or bad. 

When the dragon was within in few feet of Stannis, it roared. 

The ring of steel sounded in the courtyard as every member of the king's party drew their swords. 

Sansa's body lurched forward involuntarily and it was only the sudden sharp pain of Arya's nails digging into her arm that kept her in place. 

The golden dragon seemed unbothered by the swords and took another step toward Stannis. 

Stannis lowered his sword to his side and took a step toward the dragon. 

The spectators stood in tense silence watching Stannis and the dragon size each other up. 

After a few moments, the dragon lowered its head and presented its neck to Stannis.  
In response, Stannis sheathed his sword. 

Sansa felt faint from relief.  
Two dragons had made an appearance and the king had not been burned alive in her courtyard.  
So far, so good. 

To her further immense relief, Jon, finally flew over the battlement riding the green dragon.  
Jon was proudly nestled into the base of the dragon's neck.  
Sansa silently thanked the gods that he was not screaming and cursing this time. 

The first few weeks Jon worked with the dragons had not been easy for Sansa.  
She had to literally bite her tongue several times upon seeing scorch marks on Jon's boots and cloak. 

After several days of sitting with the dragons and late nights reading about dragons of old, Jon was very excited when the green dragon had lowered its neck to the ground for him. 

Jon's intention was to simply climb onto the dragon's upper back and figure out how and where he could hold on in order to remain astride if, at some point in the future, they might possibly try flying together. 

The green dragon did not know Jon's plan and simply took off into the air. 

Jon returned home that evening, a bit shaken, very chagrined and suffering from impossibly tangled hair and a wind chapped face. 

Sansa burst into tears when he told her he struggled not to slide off the dragon's back a few times on that first flight. 

Jon tried to reason that this was not entirely different than breaking in a horse.  
Horses can certainly be dangerous, especially while they are learning to take their lead from humans.  
  
Sansa snapped back that horses don't fly or breathe fire. 

She knew that the dragons were part of their lives now. She honestly didn't know if she would ever stop worrying about the potential consquences though. 

She particularly worried about the black dragon.  
The dragon was not aggressive toward Jon but neither did it seek his attention like the other two.  
  
The black dragon would fly along side Jon and the green dragon but it had not lowered its neck or given any sign it was willing to be ridden. 

The golden dragon had also not lowered its neck for Jon but it seemed the most calm and curious of the three. It rarely roared and was sometimes seen perched on the battlement of Winterfell, calmly watching the activity below. 

At the present moment, the green dragon landed smoothly in the courtyard near its sibling and lowered its neck to allow Jon to dismount easily. 

Jon immediately dropped to one knee in front of Stannis once his feet were on the ground. 

Stannis waved for Jon to rise and the two men clasped each other's forearms. 

Sansa released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.  
She and Arya grinned at each other in relief.  
Rickon muttered "At least he didn't fall on his ass jumping off the damn thing this time."

Sansa smoothly elbowed her brother in his ribs before gliding over to Stannis and Jon to suggest getting everyone settled into their chambers for a rest before lunch. 

Sansa felt much more relaxed as she hurried around the halls tending to her guests.  
She personally escorted Stannis and his men to their chambers before enjoying a quick cup of tea and a chat with Davos. 

It was late in the afternoon when she finally entered her own chambers to rest before dinner. 

No sooner had she stepped through the door than she was swept into Jon's arms and kissed soundly. 

"That could not have gone better!" he said happily. 

Sansa agreed, for once feeling fond of the golden dragon. 

"You looked in command when you landed. I was very proud," she replied as she brushed a curl off of his forehead. 

Jon barked out a laugh. "Admit it. You were just happy I didn't fall on my ass getting down."

"Well, I wasn't going to put it that way....but yes," she said a grin. 

"Did you see golden boy lay low for Stannis?!" Jon asked excitedly. "Do you think it knows he's the king?"

Sansa shrugged. "The Baratheons and the Targaryens are related...."

"Perhaps the dragons can sense that." Jon finished for her. 

"So green boy is mine to ride and golden boy is apparently for Stannis...." Jon mused. 

"How do you know they are boys?" Sansa asked with mock indignation

Jon chuckled. "I have no idea." 

I hope there is a rider for the black dragon somewhere," Sansa said, chewing on her bottom lip.

Jon leaned in to kiss her gently. "You have the kindest soul. And I love you for it. The black dragon is the most stubborn. I think he is perfectly content being unpaired. Don't worry about him, sweet girl." 

Sansa smiled and rested her head on Jon's shoulder as they embraced.  
She hadn't meant to be kind. She genuinely worried that the black dragon would go feral without a rider to bond with him.  
The very idea made her shudder.


	33. Chapter 33

After working with the dragons over the next two weeks, Stannis and Jon decided to fly to Castle Black. 

None of the men who had ridden with Stannis from Kings Landing protested this decision. 

Even Davos had an extra spring in his step at the idea of staying in the cozy library of Winterfell. His reading skills had improved greatly under Shireen's patient tutelage. Davos was proud to call himself a voracious reader now.  
He preferred stories of adventure but was not opposed to an occasional historical account of a great battle. 

Sansa spent many happy hours sitting in companionable silence with Sam and Davos in the library when Jon and Stannis were in the training yard or with the dragons. 

For the most part the king's visit had gone well save for one incident.  
Brienne challenged Stannis to duel with live steel in the training yard. 

It was common knowledge that Brienne was a member of Renly Baratheon's Kingsguard.  
It was not common knowledge that Brienne held Stannis and Lady Melissandre responsible for Renly's death.  
Brienne had been under suspicion of murdering Renly at one point as she was in the tent with Renly and Sansa's mother when Renly died. Catelyn Stark had insisted Brienne was innocent and that she too had seen the shadow that stabbed Renly through the heart. 

Sansa would not put it past Melissandre to kill anyone anywhere for any reason.  
And sadly, she also believed Stannis was capable of agreeing to any of Melissandre's schemes while he was under her spell. 

Sansa and Arya had pleaded with Brienne to find a way to come to peace with Stannis. Not out of love for Stannis but out of concern for Brienne. 

Arya had agreed to keep Brienne preoccupied and away from the castle as much as possible.  
The fates intervened by felling Arya with a cold on their first day's ride out. It only made sense to return to the castle at once. 

Brienne had been skulking about, staring angrily at Stannis for the past two days. 

So it was not a huge surprise when Rickon burst into Sansa's solar and told her to come quickly to the training yard before Brienne and Stannis killed each other. 

When Sansa reached the yard Brienne and Stannis were circling each other, broad swords in hand.  
Jon and Davos were standing to the side looking frustrated and worried. 

She caught Jon's eye and he shook his head with a grimace. Her stomach turned as she tried to figure out how to stop this before one of them got killed. 

The first clang of sword against sword jolted her back to the present.

"I, Brienne of Tarth, accuse you, Stannis Baratheon of the murder of your brother Renly Baratheon," Brienne said, her voice shaking in anger. "You commanded the red witch Melissandre to conjure a shadow demon and that demon stabbed King Renly through the back." 

Stannis scowled at Brienne. "I did not command her to conjure anything but I would have killed Renly regardless. What did you think would happen, woman? He would have gladly killed me. Probably would have ordered you to do it." 

Brienne' s step faltered for a split second and Stannis struck hard and fast. 

"Renly was a usurper, playing at war. He had no right to the crown," Stannis ground out through clenched teeth as he drove Brienne back. 

Brienne steadied herself and managed to strike a hard blow which made Stannis stumble.. 

"He was a good man! He would have made a good king! He didn't need to rely on blood magic and red witches!"

"No. He had the Tyrells and the blind devotion of fools like you who couldn't see him for the selfish little boy he was."

Brienne swung her sword in fury as she swept Stannis' leg out from under him. 

Stannis landed hard and was unable to lift his sword before Brienne had her sword at his neck. 

Stannis squinted up at Brienne, tossed his sword to the side and said "Go on, do your duty then."  
The sound of steel being unsheathed by Stannis' men rang out through the training yard and the roar of the golden dragon filled the air from above. 

Brienne stood over Stannis, panting and wide eyed.

Sansa held her breath and silently pleaded with Brienne to walk away. 

Brienne unleashed a tortured scream and threw her sword to the ground. 

"He didn't deserve what happened to him. What you did was without honor," Brienne said quietly, wiping at the tear rolling down her cheek. 

Stannis sighed. "Most of us die without honor." Stannis rose to his feet to face Brienne. "I did love him but he could not be king."  
Brienne closed her eyes and stepped back. 

Everyone in the yard visibly relaxed as Stannis stalked past Brienne. 

Sansa started to walk over to her friend but the Hound put a hand on her shoulder.  
"Leave her be, Little Bird." 

She nodded and watched Brienne pick up her sword and walk away.


	34. Chapter 34

A white raven from the Citadel arrived two weeks later. 

Sansa brushed the snow from her cloak as she entered the castle.  
"Winter has finally come, father," she whispered. 

Jon would be at Castle Black for at least another two moons and though she missed him, she was relieved to be free of the dragons for a while. 

Sansa was looking forward to a hot bath and then curling up with Ghost while she finished knitting a hat for Sandor. 

As she entered the hallway leading to her chambers she heard a muffled shriek coming from Arya's room.

Arya was not prone to shrieking. Alarmed, Sansa ran to Arya's door and knocked firmly.  
"Arya! Are you alright?" 

She heard a thud, a muffled curse in a decidely male voice, a giggle and shushing before Arya replied "I'm fine," in a decidedly un-Arya like sing song tone. 

Sansa smirked and knocked again. "Arya, can you open the door please," she said sweetly.

"Just a moment," Arya sang back to her.

After several long moments Arya finally slid the bar up and cracked open the door just enough for Sansa to see one of her sister's eyes. 

Sansa feigned confusion. "What are you doing? Open the door!"  
"Why?"  
"I want to see you."  
"What for?"  
"Can't I just want to see my only sister?"  
"No."  
"Arya, open the door."  
Arya sighed. "Hang on."  
Arya looked over her shoulder then opened the door a bit wider. 

Sansa pushed past Arya, leaping into the room as she shouted " Aha!"

She spun around looking for the owner of the deep voice but only saw Nymeria looking at her as if she had sprouted a second head. 

Undeterred, Sansa dropped to her hands and knees and jerked up the bed skirt.

Arya stood over her with a cocked an eyebrow and asked "Really Sansa, are you so bored with Jon away? " Arya shook her head sadly. 

Sansa stood up and smoothed her hands down her skirt.  
"I could have sworn I heard a man's voice in here and out of concern, I wanted to..."

"Be nosy?"

"I was concerned. Like a good older sister should be," Sansa said in her haughtiest tone. 

"Well, as you can see, it's just me here. So..." Arya gestured at the open door. 

Sansa narrowed her eyes at her sister. Arya studied her fingertips, avoiding Sansa's gaze. Just as Sansa was about to apologize, there was a crash from behind the changing screen in the corner of the room.

Sansa and Arya locked eyes. 

Sansa whooped in victory and tried to shove Arya aside.  
Arya was small but strong.  
"No no no no...Sansa, no," Arya sputtered, holding on to Sansa's waist. 

The sisters lurched haphazardly toward the corner of the room as Sansa struggled to walk forward with Arya determined to hold her back.

Eventually Sansa reached the edge of the changing screen and pulled at it. 

Gendry Waters stood naked save for a throw pillow clutched in front of his crotch. 

Sansa gasped and covered her eyes.  
"May the Stranger take me now!" 

"No, milady, you've met me before. It's Gendry," came the earnest reply. 

Sansa whirled around to face her sister. "I deserve this. I apologize. Let's talk later."

Arya smirked. "Say goodnight Gendry."

"Good night Sansa," Gendry said warmly. 

"Oh gods" Sansa muttered as she left the room, shutting the door behind her. 

She leaned against the door, torn between bursting into laughter and spontaneously combusting from embarrassment when the thunk of the bar being slid into to place on Arya's door jolted Sansa into scurrying away. 

Back in her own chambers, Sansa was happy for her sister. A Stark and a Baratheon had finally joined, just as their fathers always hoped.  
Maybe it was just for now, maybe it would last a lifetime.  
As long as Arya was happy, Sansa would be happy for her.   
And she would never, ever ask to go inside Arya's room uninvited again. 

Sansa burst into giggles thinking of the whole absurd situation.  
Ghost lifted his head to look at her. 

She considered Ghost for a moment.  
Nymeria seemed completely relaxed with Gendry in the room.  
That was a very good sign.  
It did make her wonder exactly how long Gendry had been in the castle without her knowing.  
Was he here when Jon was here?  
Sansa cringed. Oh, that would have been much worse if Jon had discovered Gendry naked in Arya's room.  
Sansa giggled again.


	35. Chapter 35

Gendry had been working in a forge near Harrentown in the Riverlands when Arya and Brienne found him. 

He had been going by the name Gendry Snow and keeping to himself when he wasn't working. 

He told Sansa he had been saving his wages to travel to Winterfell in case Arya ever returned home.

Gendry was very affable and clearly smitten with her sister. 

The mystery of Nymeria's tolerance of him was at least partially solved when Sansa caught him holding bacon under the table during breakfast in her solar. 

Gendry happily began working in the castle forge and Sansa promised to plead his case to Stannis in the future. 

Gilly was approaching her time. The babe had dropped in her belly and Sam fussed over his wife like a nervous Septa.It was very sweet to see. 

Brienne had begun receiving small gifts from Tormund. It took a while to figure out the gifts were from Tormund as he could not write. A small note had been written for him and accompanied the third gift. Like Val, Tormund had talent with whittling.  
Brienne had an owl, two bears, a cat and a tusked mammoth in her collection so far.  
She seemed suspicious and bemused by Tormund's attention. Brienne would shake her head and wrinkle her nose at the gifts but Sansa had spied the tokens sitting neatly in a line on Brienne's window sill.  
Sansa thoroughly enjoyed personally delivering each new package. 

Rickon was determined not to complete his studies with Maester Wolkan. It was becoming a near daily discussion between them.  
Sansa pleaded and Rickon scowled.  
Rickon, near tears of frustration, finally told her the letters on the pages were jumbled and did not make sense to him. He was tired of trying. 

Sansa felt an ache in her heart. She gently asked him what was different when Shireen was helping him.  
Rickon stared out the window and sighed.  
"She never made me feel stupid. If I couldn't get it, she figured out how to make it a game. She found stories I liked and read them to me and asked me to read then back to her," he said wistfully. 

Sansa reached across the table for his hand. Rickon rolled his eyes but flopped his hand in hers. 

"Give me a chance to regroup. No lessons this week or next. I will figure out a way to make this work, Rickon. I promise you," she whispered.  


Rickon looked at her for a moment, so vunerable it hurt her to see it. Then he nodded. 

After her talk with Rickon, she went to find Sandor. His new hat was ready.  
She ran into Davos in the hallway and proudly showed him her creation.  


Davos bursting out laughing hurt her feelings. Davos quickly assured her the hat was wonderful but wondered if the Hound would appreciate it.  
Sansa assured Davos that he would.

She found the Hound near the training yard and presented the hat to him, excitedly showing off the ear flaps.  
"It's yellow and black like your house colors," she said happily.  
He took the hat from her and turned it over and over in his hands, looking bewildered.  
She looked at him, so pleased and so hopeful that he groaned and jammed it on his head.  
Oh dear, she thought.  
He did look ridiculous.  
A young stable boy walking by them snickered. Both Sansa and the Hound turned to scowl at the boy.  
The snickering stopped.  
Sansa was about to offer to take the hat back when the Hound graced her with one of his very rare smiles and thanked her for it. 

A while later, she had just settled at her desk when Maester Wolkan stopped in. 

"A letter for you, my lady," he said with a mischievous grin. 

Sansa grinned back at him as she took the letter with her name written across the front in Jon's slanted handwriting.

She sighed happily and broke the wax seal. 

"Sansa,

Meera Reed and Bran's wolf Summer arrived at Castle Black this morning.  
Both were battered and half frozen.  
Meera was clearly distressed. Much of what she has said does not make sense. 

Bran is alive. He is holed up in a cave under a massive weirwood in the Haunted Forrest.  
Hodor and a man calling himself the three eyed raven are with him. 

Meera's brother Jojen was killed by wights before they reached the cave. 

Meera also told me our Uncle Benjen rescued her and brought her to Castle Black. But he cannot pass the Wall himself.  
I do not understand this. 

I am taking the dragons over the Wall when Meera has recovered enough to direct me to this cave.  
I have to try to find Bran and Benjen. 

I don't know what will happen. I hope to send you good news soon.  
I love you. 

Jon"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting into the home stretch!  
> I think two or three more chapters and an epilogue.  
> THANK YOU for reading this story.  
> I am very humbled and grateful.
> 
> My first looong multichapter story.  
> I've learned a lot. ❤


	36. Chapter 36

Sansa dropped the letter and screamed for Maester Wolkan. 

She instructed him to call the banners by raven or riders, whichever was faster. She needed fighting men to get to the Wall as soon as possible.

She ran into the godswood as fast as she could.  
She knelt in front of the heart tree and slid her hands up its white bark until she felt the red sap tears on her fingertips.  
"Bran. Bran, please. Please," she whispered over and over.  
It was only when she wiped tears from her cheek and returned her hands to the tree that the leaves above her began to stir.  
She sagged in relief as Bran's voice filled her head.  
"Hello sister." He sounded weary.  
"Bran! Meera and Summer made it to Castle Black. They are alright. Jon is planning to fly the dragons over the Wall to find you and Benjen on his own. Please! You have to stop him! I'm sending men to the Wall. I've called the banners. Tell him to wait for more men. Please Bran. I beg you.."  
She wept as she clung to the tree, her own face now sticky with red sap. 

"I will try, sister.."

Sansa lifted her face and stared at the face in the tree.

"Bran? Bran!?" 

But there was no answer. 

She sat down on the snow covered ground until she began to shiver. As she slowly stood up, she pressed her forehead to the trunk of the heart tree for a moment, praying to the old gods to keep her brother safe. 

With the help of everyone in the castle who was able to write, letters were sent to the Houses of the North. 

House Mormont, House Glover and House Wull were asked to send men to the Shadow Tower.  
House Cerwyn, House Umber, House Hornwood a were asked to send men to Castle Black with House Stark.  
House Manderly, House Magnar, House Reed and House Flint were asked to send men to East Watch. 

Sansa hoped her efforts were not in vain. 

She bundled up in furs and visited the godswood again with Arya, Rickon and their wolves.  
Not knowing what to do, the three siblings placed their hands on the heart tree. 

Rickon suddenly drew in a sharp breath and threw his head back. His eyes were solid white and his voice was guttural as he began to chant.

After several terrifying minutes Rickon gasped and fell forward onto the trunk of the tree.  
Arya reached over to steady him. "What in the seven hells was that?!" 

"What was what?" Rickon croaked. 

"You must have said 'woh dak nag gram' and 'Brandon Stark' a hundred times just now!"

Rickon shook his head and replied "The first part is the Old Tongue. They still use it in parts of Skagos Little squirrel people are what they call the Children of the Forrest. What do they have to do with Bran?"

Sansa placed her hands back on the tree. "Bran. Bran, please. Talk to me." 

But nothing happened. 

Jon would tell her later that he almost did not ride out to meet Benjen. 

The last time someone told him their uncle wanted to see him, Jon ended up being killed. 

The reunion was painful for Jon.  
If Benjen had not spoken to him as quickly as he did Jon would have drawn his sword.  
A blue flame flickered in Benjen's eyes now. The same blue as the eyes of the wights. 

Benjen explained there were still a small band of the Children of the Forrest alive and protecting Bran in the cave. He was safe for now.  
What was needed was to kill the Night King. The one who raised the wights at Hardhome. He was the first and his power made all others.  
"Kill him and all of the others will fall. Then you can bring your brother home."  
"What about you?" Jon asked as Benjen mounted his horse.  
Benjen smiled sadly and shook his head. .  
"How do we kill him?"Jon called out. "With what made him. Dragonglass." Benjen replied as he rode away.


	37. Chapter 37

Jon was growing impatient. 

Men from the North had begun arriving at the three castles of the Nights Watch. 

The relief of having more anle bodied fighters was tempered by the sight of thousands of wights that stood silent and still outside thei castle gates. 

Jon had the archers at Castle Black loose fire balls on the wights. Those that were hit screeched and flailed until they burned out. The other wights around them did not flinch. 

The archers destroyed as many wights as their arrows could reach but, in truth, it barely made a dent in the wight's numbers. 

The men grew more on edge for every day that passed and more and more wights arrived to stand silently in the snow, staring at the gates. 

Jon's skin seem to crawl with the urge to fight, to strike, to do something. 

When Meera was finally recovered enough to draw a crude map to the cave where Bran and Hodor were trapped, Jon couldn't wait any longer. 

He knocked on Stannis' door.  
"Your Grace, just give me a few good men and let me go get my brother." 

Stannis barely looked up from the parchment he was writing on. "That is not what we agreed on."

"With all due respect, Your Grace, I want to go anyway." 

"If it goes badly, Jon Snow, thousands of dead men could swarm us. This is not just about your brother," Stannis said sternly and threw down his quill. 

Jon blew out a frustrated breath. "I know that, Your Grace. And I still want to try.." 

Stannis stared at Jon for a moment. "If you can find any men willing to die to help you..."

"Thank you, Your Grace," Jon said hastily and backed out of the room. 

As he turned to walk away, Theon Greyjoy stepped into his path.  
"I want to go with you." 

"No," Jon brushed past Theon. 

"Jon, please..."

"No!"

"I'm willing to die to help you. You know I'm the best archer," Theon called after him.

Jon spun around and saw a bit of the Theon he remembered. Head up, chin lifted, shoulders squared. Eyes defiant.  
He stalked back over to Theon and grabbed him by the collar.  
"After everything you've done why would I trust you?" Jon growled. 

Some of the pride Jon had just seen faded as Theon bowed his head. "It's all I have left now," he said quietly. "To try and help the boy who used to be my brother too," 

Jon growled again and shoved Theon away from him.  
"Be ready at dawn," Jon snarled over his shoulder as he walked away. 

Tormund, Edd Tollet, Theon and Val were waiting near the stables that had been converted to shelter the dragons when Jon arrived the next morning.  
Jon was hoping all of them could somehow manage to fit atop the green dragon when Stannis arrived.  
"Not a word," Stannis barked. 

Jon, Tormund and Edd climbed on the green dragon. Stannis, Val and Theon climbed on the back of the golden dragon.  
The black dragon, as usual, hissed at all of them. Yet it still stretched its wings to prepare for flying. 

They flew over the Wall and followed the map from Meera.  
As the massive weirwood tree became visible the snowfall seemed to become overwhelmingly heavy. The wind started to rage as it pushed against the dragons. 

Blinded by snow, Jon managed to command his dragon to land.The others quickly followed. They ended in a small valley just beyond the weirwood tree but not far from the cave entrance. 

As they climbed off the dragons, hundreds of wights appeared on the hills above them. There was nowhere to run except into the cave. .

The Night King and four White Walkers stepped around the wights on the hill and began to make their way down toward the dragons.. 

The black dragon let a stream of fire loose, directly at the Night King.  
The nearby wights hit by dragon fire screeched and collapsed but the Night King and White Walkers continued on, undisturbed. 

Jon and Stannis exchanged a worried look and unsheathed their swords. 

Val, Tormund and Edd moved to stand with their backs to Jon and Stannis, trying to provide some kind of cover.  
Theon stayed atop the dragon, holding on tightly as it stomped angrily in place breathing fire towards the wights.  


The Night King stood between them and the cave as he raised his hands. He almost seemed to smile.  
The wights began to shudder as if trying to resist being held in place.  
The White Walkers drew their swords and advanced on Jon and Stannis. 

"Stop!" a voice cried out from the entrance to the cave under the weirdwood tree. 

Everything stilled. 

The Night King turned to look at Bran Stark who was being held in Hodor's arms at the entrance to the cave.

Jon let out an involuntary cry of relief, of sorrow, of fear and of helpless rage upon seeing Bran.

"I am the three eyed raven now. I'm the one you want. I am ready," Bran said dispassionately. 

The Night King began to walk toward Bran as the White Walkers advanced on Jon, Stannis, Val, Tormund and Edd..  
The wights began making a stomach turning screeching sound as they shuddered in place.

In all of the chaos no one noticed the dragonglass tipped arrow that Theon loosed from his bow. 

The tip of the arrow sailed through the snow and wind, lodging itself into the calf of the Night King who fell forward as his leg shattered.

The wights began tumbling over each other attacking the dragons, attacking Tormund, Edd and Val. Theon himself was overwhelmed and pulled down from the dragon. 

Jon threw himself forward with all of his strength, as Stannis tried to fight off two White Walkers. Jon shoved himself into the White Walker in front of him, taking a vicious blow to his shoulder. He stumbled wildly in the snow as he swung Long Claw forward with all of his might, driving the sword into the Night King's back. 

The Night King shattered.  
The White Walkers shattered.  
The wights dropped where they stood like puppets whose strings have been cut. 

The battered group was too shocked to do anything but stand or lay in place. 

The silence was broken by a plaintive Hodor asking "Hodor?"


	38. Chapter 38

Jon struggled to pull himself over to Stannis.  
Stannis scowled and waved Jon away. 

Tormund and Val were helping to free Theon from a tangle of wight bodies as Edd staggered to his feet. 

"Come inside and get warm for a while, Your dragons need a rest," Bran called out to them as Hodor turned to carry him back into the cave. 

The dragons had curled around each other, and indeed they appeared uninterested in moving anytime soon. 

Jon and Stannis helped to pull each other up and then hobbled toward the cave with the rest of their party following behind. 

Jon clutched Hodor's shoulder and nodded his thanks then he took Bran's face in his hands. 

"Hello brother," Bran said, smiling at Jon.  
Jon exhaled a shaky breath and grinned back at Bran. 

They settled around a small fire, just inside the entrance to the cave, silent and transfixed as Bran began to tell them the story of the Night King. 

"The Night King was born human. He was a solider in the army for the First Men. He was particularly brave, clever and cruel.  
The Children were losing the war. Their kin were dying. Weirwood trees were being cut down or burned.  
In desperation, they laid a trap for this solider. They enchanted a dagger made from dragonglass and drove it into his heart. They gave him the ability to turn the dead into his soldiers, to create storms of ice and wind. He would now fight for the Children and drive the First Men back to their home.  
However, something went wrong, as it often does with dark magic.  
The Children were not able to control him as he created more and more wights.  
The Children sought out Bran the Builder who was a greenseer and a warg like me. Many Starks are. It is believed some of The Children mated with our Stark ancestors.  
They promised if he built the Wall, they would enchant it so the Night King and his wights would be unable to cross through.  
Bran the Builder required the Children to enchant Winterfell as well so that no harm would come to his descendants from the Night King as long as a Stark lived in Winterfell.  
When we were gone from the castle, something changed.  
The enchantments weakened and the Night King's powers became stronger. The balance of the natural order had already been disrupted by the hatching of Daenerys' dragons.  
No Stark in Winterfell made matters even worse.  
I was called here by the three eyed raven through visions. I think because I have greensight. I had visions of dragons breathing ice over the North, destroying the Wall and freeing the Night King. I also saw dragons breathing fire over the South destroying every city.  
I prayed to the old gods to give you, my family, the good fortune and courage to keep my visions from becoming truth. It was only when Stannis and his army defeated the Boltons and I saw you and Sansa in Winterfell again did I think we had a chance of survival."

Jon scrubbed his hands down his face casting a worried glance out at the dragons. 

"Don't worry Jon, Rhaegal is devoted to you." 

"Rhaegal? That's my dragon's name?" Jon asked, bemused. 

"Yes, Rhaegal was named in honor of your father. Drogon, the black dragon, is named in honor of Daenerys' husband Khal Drogo of the Dothraki. And Viserion is named for Viserys Targaryen," Bran said with a half smile. 

Stannis lurched to his feet and staggered to the entrance of the cave.  
"Viserion!" Stannis shouted. The dragon swung it's head around to look at Stannis.  
Stannis growled. "I can't believe my dragon is named after such an unimpressive little shit," he muttered in disgust. 

Tormund snickered until Val elbowed him in the ribs. 

When the dragons began to stir Bran reached for Hodor. "It's time to go," he said. 

"Are you really the three eyed raven now?" Jon asked as he slowly and painfully rose to his feet. 

"Someday, perhaps," Bran said looking over Hodor's shoulder into the darkness of the cave. "I have a lot more left to learn." 

"As do I," Jon replied wryly. 

They walked out of the cave and over to the clearly cold and miserable dragons. 

Jon put his hand on Rhegal's snout and whispered "Thank you Rhaegal."  
The dragon preened and nuzzled into Jon's hand. 

With two extra passengers to carry they needed Drogon to cooperate. Jon and Stannis contemplated how to make that happen as Drogon pretended to ignore them.  
Drogon finally huffed a snow melting sigh and lowered his neck.  
Jon climbed on and stretched out his uninjured arm for Hodor.  
"Let's go before he changes his mind!" Jon said nervously. 

Bran was quickly sandwiched between Val and Tormund on Rhaegal. Theon and Edd joined Stannis on Viserion. 

As they flew through the frigid air, the sun emerged from behind the clouds for the first time in days. 

When Castle Black came into view, not even the bodies of the wights covering most of rhe ground around the Wall lessened its beauty to Jon at that moment. 

All he could think of was getting home to Winterfell and Sansa.


	39. Chapter 39

Hodor was ready to be home in Winterfell.  
He missed working in the stables.  
He missed warm food in his belly and his soft bed.  
He loved Bran. He would give his life for any of the Starks but especially Bran.  
His great grandmother, Old Nan, had whispered to him since he was a small boy that someday a boy named Brandon would be born to the Starks and it was his job to protect Brandon no matter what. She said the weirwood tree told her that so it must be true.  
When he was very young, he was called Wylis.  
His best friend was Lyanna Stark and even though Old Nan told him not to bother Lyanna unless she asked him to play first, they did play together most days.

Most of his days were good until the day he stopped being able to say any word but "hodor". That was the most frightening day of his life.  
He was in the courtyard at Winterfell.  
He looked up and saw a young man standing with an old man. He had never seen them before but he felt very afraid of them.  
An image filled his mind of himself as a man, standing at a door holding it closed with all of his might. Dead men pushed against it. He just knew if he let them in, they would rip him apart. He could even feel the pain the dead men would inflict on him burning through his limbs.  
He began trembling so violently that he collapsed to the ground.  
"Hold the door!" he commanded his older self over and over.  
He bit his tongue until it bled. His mind grew fuzzy and his words became slurred. He was so tired from trembling. He tried to tell Old Nan he was scared but that all he could manage to say was "hodor."  
His mouth would not make any other word. 

What he imagined did not actually happen but somehow he knew it could have. .  
Regardless, he knew in his heart that Old Nan would be proud of him anyway. He had protected Bran just like she told him to so long ago.  
And he was so happy to learn Jon was Lyanna's son. Her boy had grown up in Winterfell too, just like them. She would like that.  
Jon was nice like Lyanna.  
All of the Stark children were nice to him in fact. He would be so happy to see Sansa, Arya and Rickon.  
Yes, Hodor was very glad to be going home. 

Sansa, Arya and Rickon stood in the courtyard of Winterfell buzzing with anticipation as Bran, Hodor and Meera Reed would be arriving soon. 

Jon was staying behind with Stannis to survey the damages at the three castles of the Night's Watch and assign new duties to the men. 

As soon as the gates were opened, Summer sprinted through.  
Ghost, Nymeria and Shaggydog met him in the middle of the courtyard.  
There was much sniffing, yipping and tumbling over each other as the four wolves reunited at last. 

Sansa couldn't help but cry at the sight of the wolves wriggling and smiling their wolfie smiles.  
Arya poked Rickon and they both grinned and shook their heads at their sister. 

Hodor sat up front with the driver. He was smiling broadly as he looked around the courtyard.  
As the wagon came to a stop in front of the Stark siblings, there was Bran sitting with Meera Reed.  
The three siblings could not wait for Bran to be lifted from the wagon.  
Arya and Rickon simply said hello to Meera and squeezed in on either side of Bran, wrapping their arms around him.  
Sansa felt tears rolling down her cheeks as she offered a hand to Meera and introduced herself.

Hodor came around the back of the wagon into Sansa's embrace.  
Arya and Bran reluctantly let go of a laughing Bran so Hodor could lift him out of the wagon and place him in the wheeled chair Sansa had commissioned Tyrion to design. 

Once Bran was settled into his new chair, Sansa embraced her brother and then sank to her knees beside his chair.  
"Hello sister," Bran said softly, raising one hand to cup her cheek.  
Sansa leaned into his touch.  
"Hello Bran.Welcome home," she replied.

It was a fortnight before Jon and Stannis returned with the dragons.  
Once again, the household assembled in the courtyard.  
Formal homage was paid to King Stannis.  
Jon greeted his cousins and each of the wolves, then grabbed Sansa's hand and pointedly bid everyone a goodnight. 

Sansa laughed as Jon hastily pulled her through the castle.  
"Jon! It's midday!"  
"I don't care," he huffed.  
As soon as Jon pushed open their chamber door, he was tugging at his leathers.  
Sansa giggled as she tugged at the ties of her dress.  
She still had her shift and one slipper on when she was abruptly tackled onto the bed.  
Kisses rained down on her face and neck while both pairs of their hands impatiently battled to move fabric out of the way.  
Sansa laughed and pushed Jon away so she could sit up and wiggle the fabric of her shift out from under her. When she was free of the fabric she looked at Jon to see he had managed to rid himself of all of his clothing in that small bit of time.  
"Oh..." she was all she could say before she was pounced upon.  
This time they had a proper kiss.  
When they both broke away to breathe, Jon smiled and rubbed his nose against her nose.  
"I missed you, beautiful wife," he whispered.  
"I missed you too, handsome husband," she happily sighed.  
"Jon?"  
"Yes, sweet girl?"  
"More kissing, please."  
"Yes, sweet girl."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta da!!  
> That's the end of the main story.  
> Last chapter will be an epilogue.
> 
> THANK YOU to anyone who has made it this far. ❤❤❤❤❤❤


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue

By decree of King Stannis Baratheon Jon Snow was officially renamed Jon Stark.  
His four children with Sansa (Robb, Benjen, Lyanna and Ned) bore the surname Stark as well. 

Jon trained men to fight and settled disputes between the Free Folk and their Northern neighbors while Sansa served the realm as Wardness of the North for 28 years.  
Upon her official retirement, her eldest child Robb stepped into the role. 

Arya Stark married Gendry Waters in the godswood soon after Gendry formally renounced any claim he may have to the throne.  
The pair traveled across the Narrow Sea seeking adventure.  
They returned when Arya discovered she was with child, ten years into their marriage. They remained at Winterfell until their child, Roderick, had his tenth nameday.  
And the three left to seek new adventures as a family.  
After another ten years, they settled near Riverrun and visited Winterfell as often as they could. 

Bran Stark was appointed Master of Whisperers and moved to Kings Landing with the trio of dragons, who preferred a warmer climate.  
It was not unusual for Bran to show up at Winterfell on the back of Rhaegal using the special saddle Tyrion had designed.  
Bran served King Stannis, Queen Shireen and her daughter Queen Selvia until he died at the age 94. 

The realm enjoyed peace and prosperity under King Stannis and his descendents..  
Between a fierce royal navy and three loyal dragons, the seven kingdoms were well guarded. 

King Steffon, the great grandson of King Stannis was the first Baratheon King to see dragon eggs hatch, but he was not the last. 

Rickon Stark married Dalsa of the Free Folk. They settled in The Gift, living off the land and raising sheep. Their children Rumar, Darston and Caitlyn spent many happy summers with their Aunt Sansa and Uncle Jon in Winterfell. 

Tyrion Lannister was stripped of his titles and exiled to Essos where he was reunited with his niece Myrcella.  
Together they opened an inn by the sea with gold Myrcella had been given by her father Jaime before he left her with a distant relative near the city of Meereen.  
Myrcella married into a noble family and had three children.  
It was said Tyrion died at the age of 76 in a brothel while enjoying the company of two buxom young ladies.

Theon Greyjoy remained a man of the Night's Watch at the Shadow Tower until he died at the age of 62. During his time at the Shadow Tower he became close friends with Tommen Lannister who joined the Night's Watch after spending nearly a year in the black cells in King's Landing. 

Castle Black was turned into a trading post for the Free Folk and the North.  
Eastwatch and the Shadow Tower remained active and staffed with the men of the Night's Watch keeping a vigilant eye on the sea. 

Brienne returned to her home in Tarth.  
As her father's sole heir she felt it was her duty.  
Brienne never married though she did have twin sons, Thomas and Davin.  
Her sons grew to be the tallest men anyone had ever seen on the Isle of Tarth. Both had fiery red hair, boisterous laughs and an affinity for whittling, much like the Free Folk man who visited every couple of years. 

Tormund, Val and Jeyne ventured beyond the Wall and joined with other Free Folk.  
They built a village and made trade agreements with the North for furs and lumber.  
Val was called the Queen Beyond the Wall and her daughter inherited the title many years later.  
Jeyne lived a quiet but content life near the Free Folk village in a cabin she built by herself.  
Tormund learned to read and write so that he might keep in touch with his "kneeler" friends.  
And every couple of years he left the village to visit the "big woman" who had stolen his heart. 

Sandor Cleagane joined the Brotherhood Without Banners. He occasionally returned to Winterfell to visit. Sansa always made sure chicken was served when he did. 

Hodor and Osha remained at Winterfell for the rest of their days, safe and loved.  
  
Nymeria had four litters of pups, enough for each of Ned Stark's grandchildren to have a pup of their own. 

As for the heart tree, it didn't happen often, but every once in a while, a breeze stirred through its red leaves and the old face carved into the tree trunk appeared to smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they lived happily forever after.  
> (Except Petryr Baelish who did get pushed out the Moon Door.)  
> Hooray!  
> The End.
> 
> ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
> 
> THANK YOU for reading. ❤


End file.
